Deals, Devils, and Damnation
by Paladin of Farore
Summary: When a strange young man arrives in Storybrooke, Emma and Henry find their lives turned upside down. He claims to be from the future, and to know the secret to restoring the town's memories. Slowly the curse begins to unravel, and destiny comes to a head.
1. The Deal

A lone figure made his way down the winding forested road. The air was cool, and his breath hung visibly in the late January air. Winter was upon them, as evidenced by the browning leaves and chilled breezes that frequently swept across the state of Maine. He wasn't dressed warmly enough for this weather. He wore only a thin t-shirt, torn in more than a few places, and a pair of pants suitable only for summer. A simple backpack was slung over one shoulder, containing only the most basic necessities. A few strips of dry jerky, an extra set of clothing just as ragged as the ones he wore, a weapon-not his weapon, and a few books. Those he didn't carry often. He didn't want to damage them. But he wouldn't be returning after this outing, so he'd brought his favorites along for the ride.

One thing he lacked was money. Money wasn't worth much where he'd come from. Well, most of the time anyway. It would have been no trouble to get some on the way here, but that would've had to involve thieving and stealing, and those were things he wasn't willing to do. Not anymore. They were never worth it in the end. He also could've sold the heavy gold necklace that hung at his neck. That wouldn't have been worth it either. It had been a gift, that necklace. From someone very special.

The moon was particularly bright that night. A shining yellow crescent just visible above the trees tangled limbs; its ghostly light illuminated the figure's face. Two jagged scars curved up his right cheek; crescents shaped just like the moon, and red like a bed of glowing coals. Crystal blue eyes, clouded and misty, stared up at the sky before closing wearily. The last few weeks-years really-had been indescribably tiring. What he really needed was a good stiff drink, a big ol' steak, a bed to crash in for the rest of eternity. But he hadn't the time for any of that. For as one journey ends another begins. And this journey was leading him down this empty road to the place where it had all began.

He broke into a light jog. It felt good to stretch his muscles again. His patience was wearing thin, and the time would move faster if he picked up the pace.

The jog didn't last long. Because when the sign came into view the breath caught in his throat and he stumbled slightly on the pavement. There, draped in moonlight, was his destination.

**Welcome to Storybrooke**

It was carved of glossy cedar wood and tinted with green at the edges. Oh yes. Many years had passed since he last saw that sign. This sign marked the barriers of a prison. And beyond that barrier lay his destination, the prison itself. Storybrooke Maine. Magics of unimaginable power lay dormant there. Kept bound by a curse of dark origins, ensnared in malevolent tendrils let loose by a twisted monarch consumed by envious rage.

Tears stung in the figures eyes. No, he told himself at once, wiping them away with the back of his hand. There was no time for that. Now was no time to get nostalgic. He had work to do. Absently he fingered the folded piece of paper in his pocket. Everything was listed there. The terms of an ambitious agreement that, if executed poorly, would result in the end of the world, and perhaps all other worlds. No pressure.

The town itself was bright despite the evening hour. People were sitting down to dinner, socializing with friends at Granny's diner, which was absolutely bustling with activity. All the while blissfully unaware of their true selves. Well, mostly. There were two here who knew the truth, and one of them was just a child thought to have a wild imagination. The other was a woman, cynical and hardened, who didn't really believe at all. That was the tragic part. She would believe eventually though. They all would. Tempting as it was to enter the diner and sit down amongst the familiar faces, instead the young man continued down Main Street towards a dimly lit shop marked as 'Mr. Gold's Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer'. That was an evil place to be certain. Owned and operated by a cunning imp of a man who cared for nothing more than his deals and contracts. Deals and contracts tied him to people and power. And he'd made a great many deals in his day.

He pushed the door open, tinkling the little bell at the top. He stepped inside, glancing around at the various knick knacks and antiques that cluttered the room. A dank dustiness hung in the atmosphere. This was a place full of old things. Old possessions, old memories of times long passed.

"Can I help you?" the voice made the figure jump and spin around. He hated when that happened. Behind the counter stood a slender man with a gaunt face, well cut clothes and eyes sparkling with mischief. As he had a habit of doing, he'd appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Noticing the customers obvious disifugrement he gave the slightest of winces. That was incredibly difficult to do considering the things he'd done and seen done.

"Yes actually" said the young man. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the piece of paper. "You're Mr. Gold I assume?" It was an idle question. He knew perfectly well who the shop owner was.

"Indeed I am" replied Mr. Gold politely.

"Then this is for you" he handed him the paper, sealed at the fold by a drop of red wax branded with an elaborate seal. A flock of birds taking flight above a howling wolf, a sword driven into the ground at his feet. Breaking it open, Mr. Gold scanned its contents with deft eyes. Finished reading, those deft eyes shot back up. "You wrote this, did you?" the question was cautiously curious.

"I did."

"It's not very often I'm offered something like this. Tell me, this is your signature?" he ran a bony finger along the bottom of the paper, across a pair of signatures written side by side.

"It is."

"And the other?"

"Yours." Part of him wanted to try deception. But there was no lying to Mr. Gold. He never lied himself, but Mr. Gold was a master of spinning the truth, of withholding just the right amount of information. No. Now was the time for honesty. To win this game, the young man had to play by the devils rules.

"Interesting." He looked up at the young man's face, taking in every inch of his face. "If you are who your signature implies, you've changed quite a lot since last I saw you." An eyebrow quirked upward. "Yes, you do look familiar. How long has it been?"

"About nine years. Give or take a couple of months. Probably didn't recognize me with these" he ran a hand over his grizzly scarred cheek.

"No, I didn't. That must have been terrible." False sympathy was written all over his expression. Mr. Gold was a very good actor. He had to be with the type of business he ran. The young man shrugged.

"Happened when I was a kid. Kind of had it coming though. I was a bit of a brat." Understatement of the year. "You and I made a deal. I get to come back, I owe you one, and you get to try again. Another roll of the dice as I see it. I'll be needing the items listed as soon as possible." Mr. Gold was silent, looking over the listed items and the terms of their deal.

"I see." He looked mildly pleased. The deal was very one sided it seemed. The young man got to 'return', and in exchange, Mr. Gold was gifted with a vast wealth of information. There was no bartering now. He'd already signed, even if he had no memory of signing it. Deals could become very complicated when things such as magic were involved. However, the contract did nothing to restrict discussing the terms.

"What of the item I'm to be holding for you. Indefinitely, the contract says." Sighing, the young man lowered his backpack to the ground and unzipped the central pocket. From its depths he brought a long sword, scabbard glistening with precious jeweled stones.

"Quite a bag you have there," commented Mr. Gold. "Holds quite a lot doesn't it?"

"Bigger on the inside. Had it specially made. Can't go running around in public with a sword on my hip can I?" He let out another sigh. "Be careful with it. Took me four of those nine years to get this made. I'd hate to see it damaged."

"Of course," the pawnbroker hissed, taking the sword over the counter. It was a special sword, of course. Touching it sent tingles over his skin, painful, prickling sensations. Even without trying, he knew he would be unable to draw it from its sheath. It had been made for another. And for them only. This was perhaps the most fascinating deal he'd ever made. "The contract also speaks of Sheriff Swan and her debt to me." The young man nodded.

"It's to be transferred to me. I owe you two favors then. Use them wisely. I've spent quite a lot of time pondering this deal. Make sure you get the most of it Mr. Gold."

"I intend to. Give me a moment Mr-"

"Caleb Montori" the young man interrupted. "I don't go by my true name often these days."

"Mr. Montori then. Give me a moment and I'll gather the required items." Turning, Mr. Gold walked from the room with the sword in hand. Inscribed on the hilt in carefully molded letters was the name 'Dawnfang'. He opened the wall safe at the back of the store room, and placed the sword inside. He would keep a good eye on it. At least until the deal ran out, and by that he point, he hoped to be capable of using it himself. Gathering the items took only a few minutes. A digital watch, a billfold containing several hundred dollars, and a gallon of bright red paint. An odd assortment, but Mr. Gold didn't ask any questions.

Caleb fastened the watch to his wrist. He illuminated the screen and checked the time.

"Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Gold" he said pleasantly. "Be seeing you again soon, I think."

"Indeed you will." He grinned, showing all of his yellow stained teeth. "It's a rather elaborate game of chess you're playing here. Two different opponents, all their pieces directed at your heart. Quite a lot for one so young to handle with alone."

"I'm older than I look. Experience counts for a lot more than time Mr. Gold." They locked eyes. Blue and misty met pale gold. Now the games began, again. "And the way I see it, the key to chess is playing your queen wisely. You'll do well to remember that. I'm an opponent to be reckoned with. Last time the dice came to rest, I won. Yeah, it cost way too much, but I'm trying again. And I mean to win again." He turned and walked to the door. With it half open, first foot outside, he called over his shoulder. "One last warning. Leave the sheriff alone. Her kid too. Fuck with them, and you fuck with me. Good night, Mr. Gold."

Walking down the sidewalk Caleb felt relief wash over him. That had went a lot better than he'd expected. The games had started. All the pieces were on the board, the deal with Satan had been made, and it was time to make his first move. Moving across the street he walked in the direction of the school. He knew a place where he could get some sleep. Maybe later on, once he'd started the ball rolling, he'd move to Granny's Bed and Breakfast. But for now he needed to remain unseen. All part of the plan. First things first, he needed to meet with the sheriff. That could wait until morning however. For now, he needed a few good hours sleep. Sleep and dream of better times. Both past, and future.


	2. The Arrest

**I already posted this chapter, but I realized just how many grammatical mistakes I made. So i'm Reposting it. I was so stupid i left out a word out of the end of a sentence, and that made the sentence make no sense at all. Sorry, hope you guys still enjoy this.**

Henry Mills had never been a heavy sleeper. Even in his younger days when he hadn't believed his adoptive mother to be an evil witch queen the slightest of noises could rouse him from his dreams. Which was disappointing, considering his dreams were chock full of fairytales, mystical wizards, comic characters, and pirate space robots. He was having a particularly spectacular dream involving Snow White, Captain America, and Merlin, when a perfectly ripe apple came hurtling through his window. Glass shattered on impact, spraying across his carpet. Henry woke with a start, the awesome adventure fading away in an instant. Ah man, he thought. That was cool!

Blearily he looked from the now heavily bruised apple that lay motionless against his bedroom door to the gaping hole in his window. A chilled burst of wind blew across his blanketed legs. He shivered. Well, this wasn't usually how he woke up. The alarm clock on his bedside table read 6 A;M, a full hour before it was set to go off. A series of dull thuds followed by the tinkling of glass broke the morning silence. Yawning, he swung his legs off the bedside, slipped into a pair of Kermit the frog slippers-coolest guy in the world- and tiptoed around the broken glass to window sill. Whatever semblance of sleepiness he had left vanished when he saw the disaster area that was the front yard.

Paint, red as the apples, glistening in light of the rising sun, was splattered over the lawn. Most of not all of the well cut grass blades was bleeding red. The yard looked like a battlefield. But that wasn't what caught Henry's eye first. What he noticed first was the apple tree. Regina's pride and joy. All the leaves had been stripped off the branches, and each and every apple had been plucked. Between the hedges placed at the end of the walkway just before the sidewalk stood perhaps the least well off person Henry had ever seen. His clothes were torn, and his torso showed through several holes in his shirt. Bits of vibrant colors were visible through the same holes. He had a tattoo, a big one. Grime and lack of wash matted brown locks, and vicious looking scars marred his otherwise handsome face. And at his feet lay a pile of apples.

He noticed Henry at once. Raising his free hand he gave a little wave as if to say 'what's up?'. Deftly twirling it between his fingers, the intruder sent another apple hurling through the living room's last remaining window. As if on cue, Regina's scream rang out. Henry's door flew open.

"Henry get away from there!" her voice was surprisingly calm. But then again Storybrooke's mayor was a master of concealing her emotions with false ones. Rage flickered behind dark eyes. Henry obeyed and stepped away from the window. Regina took him by the shoulder and pulled him from the room. "I've already called the sheriff. I'll handle this honey. Go wait in the kitchen until I come to get you" she told him curtly. She was already dressed in one of her numerous pant suits. Today's was a dark viridian which gave its wearer the appearance of a willowy bodied pine tree. She was ready to spit fire. Henry felt a rush of sympathy for the scarred vandal. She steered him towards the kitchen, deposited him inside, before turning on her heel and making a b-line for the front door.

For a moment Henry stood in the kitchen listening to his mother's footsteps fade out of earshot. For just a moment. He had no intention of staying of course. Why in the world would he listen to the Evil Queen. A cavalcade of ideas dance across his imagination. Plans began to sprout like wildflowers. The vandal hadn't been anyone he recognized. Apart from Emma and the mysterious writer, Storybrooke never got visitors. Ever. Change was really happening. Prince Charming had woken up. The mine had collapsed. Jiminy Cricket had found his righteous spirit, and Hansel and Gretel had found their father, and Cinderella had had her baby. And now there were two visitor in town. Henry grinned.

All his life he'd been an outsider looking in on a time locked jail. For twenty eight years these people hadn't aged a day, their lives set on an endless loop, memories hazed by the queen's curse. But now time was moving forward. People's memories were starting to jog. Maybe now he could make some friends, ones who weren't stuck in the same grade for all eternity. And maybe, just maybe, the curse would break completely. And they would all be free.

Fully intending to disobey he slipped out of the kitchen and ran up the back stairwell. Crawling into his room as not to be seen through the broken window he got into his school clothes. His bag lay next to the bed. The leather bound story book given to him by Miss Blanchard wasn't there of course. That he'd buried underneath his castle. He hadn't been there in a few days. The storm had made it impossible to go outside. The rain couldn't hurt it though. There it was safe from harm, and out of the queens reach. All he kept in the bag was text books and his walkie-talkie. A direct line to Emma. He never left without it. With bag in hand, he went to the back door and exited to the back yard. He needed to see what was going on. Emma would be there soon, and more things would change. Operation Cobra was a go.

* * *

><p>Swigging down another gulp of coffee, Emma turned the sheriff's patrol car down the lane. The caffeine did little to invigorate her fatigued mind. A morning person she wasn't. Since coming to Storybrooke Emma had returned to something she hadn't had in years. A job with scheduled hours. Life as a bail bondsman had allowed her to decide when and where she worked. Depending on the case, she only ever worked a few days at a time. It didn't have the same security as a day to day job, but it paid well, and she'd been good at it. However there wasn't a great deal of bounty hunting to do in this small Maine town. And she couldn't leave. For the first few weeks she'd always thought 'just one more' day. But more and more time passed on, and it became clear that that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. She had to be there for Henry.<p>

Somehow the kid had talked her into a trip to the library that afternoon. No doubt before the day was out he would have talked her into a walk through the animal shelter, maybe a movie, followed by dinner at Grannies. She smiled a little. Silver tongued little jerk. He'd gotten that from his father. The ability to spin words and make you dance to his tune. And from her he'd inherited the stubbornness of a brick wall. He would never back down from a fight. Try to convince him he's wrong, and you would lose every time. The smile faded. Part of her couldn't help but worry about him.

There was a niggling thought at the back of her mind, one that thought, 'is my son crazy?' She was willing to indulge in his childish fantasies, but how far should she take it? The kid was genuinely convinced that the town was full of fairy tales and that he'd been adopted by an evil witch. Crushing his delusions completely wasn't the way to go. Dr. Hopper had said as much. But what could she do apart from humor him?

Being there for Henry didn't mean she had to like all it entailed though. Waking up at the break of dawn was particularly grueling on her psyche. Six a;m was no time to wake up. Sheriff or not. Especially if that wake up came courtesy of a distressed mayor who'd had her house barraged with paint and apples. That was getting creative. As a kid she'd pulled her fair share of Halloween tricks, and all she'd ever used was toilet paper and silly string. She almost laughed at the thought of Regina's picture perfect front lawn reduced to shambles of smashed apples and paint, but it wasn't a laughing matter. Henry was in the house. According to the mayor they were both okay. All that had been hurt were the windows. And the lawn. And the apple tree. So it was just property damage. But Emma had ran into enough psychos in her time to know that people were often much more dangerous than they first appeared. The gun at her hip suddenly felt much heavier.

Mary Margaret sat anxiously in the passenger seat. She was far more worried than Emma. Outwardly so at least. Her hands fidgeted over the cross at her throat. She did that when she was nervous. She'd decided to come for exactly that reason. Being the dedicated teacher that she was she had been up anyway finishing up her lesson plans for the week. When Emma got the call she'd immediately offered to come along for the ride. Both to get to school early, and to make sure one of her favorite students was okay. Emma wished she'd had teachers like that growing up. One's that actually gave two shits about you. Would've made living in the system a whole lot easier.

When they finally did arrive, Emma almost laughed again. The scene was so hilariously awful all she could say was.

"Damn….."

"Oh my," Mary Margaret gasped. Every single one of the windows on the house's front had been broken. Not broken, shattered was more like it. Glass littered the bushes along the front wall. The yard was a mess of half dried red blotches. And the apple tree was nothing but a stick jutting upward towards the sky, it's fruit either pelted through a window or strewn about the ground. This guy had been thorough. Speaking of this guy, he was still there, lounging casually against the hedge, arms folded behind his head, eyes closed. He hadn't left? They weren't the only car pulled up to the mayor's house. David Nolan sat in his car looking tense just twenty yards away. He was probably waiting while his wife comforted her friend inside.

"Stay here" Emma told her roommate. "I'm gonna check this guy out."

"Alright" Mary Margaret sounded more nervous than ever. She was looking towards David. Their eyes met. Emma rolled her eyes. Them making goo goo eyes at each other was a problem for another day. Taking a breath, Emma stepped out of the car, hand brushing over the badge at her hip. Other than Leroy, she hadn't had the need to actually arrest anyone yet. Seemed that changed with this guy. Her eyes widened as she approached. He wasn't a guy. He was just a kid. Seventeen, eighteen at most. Torn clothes, stubble visible on his neck terrible scars. She recognized all the signs. This was a runaway.

"Howdy. You must be the sheriff," the vandal said without looking up. "Guessin' you're here to arrest me. Madame mayor called you on me didn't she?"

"Pretty much" she replied. He didn't seem that bothered by it. "How old are you, kid?"

"Not a kid. Nineteen. Turn twenty in two weeks." His eyelids cracked, revealing crystalline blue irises surrounded by misty white. Was he blind? "Gonna read me my rights?" He grinned. "Heard you're new to the job. No worries. We're both new to this. I've been in plenty of prisons, but I've never been arrested. Kind of excited actually." Something was wrong with this kid. Emma didn't smell any alcohol, but she could tell. His speech was way too carefree. Almost slurred even.

"Alright then. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you. Do you understand these right as they have been read to you?" She felt almost silly reciting the cops mantra. Especially silly because she'd had them read to her more than once. But Regina would expect her to slack off. She was sheriff, so she'd do the job right.

"Clear as crystal sheriff." Grunting he climbed to his feet and let Emma secure the handcuffs behind his back. "I'm not blind by the way," he said as they clicked themselves locked. "Had an accident when I was younger. I see well enough, gets kinda fuzzy sometimes though."

"Same accident that gave you those?" Emma jabbed a thumb at the crescents on his cheeks. She had to ask. Any kid who got in a fight like that must have a hell of a story to tell.

"Nah. Different one. I've had a lot of accidents." Accepting the answer, the sheriff tugged him towards the patrol car. He didn't budge.

"Something wrong?"

"Just thought Madame mayor would want to say her piece. Am I right, Madame mayor?"

"You are" came the curt response.

Stepping around the paint and ruined apples Regina Mills stepped out onto the sidewalk with Kathryn in tow. Her face was one of carefully composed calmness. The eyes told a different story though. They were ablaze with fury.

"Miss Swan," she nodded in greeting. Glaring daggers, she turned on the handcuffed young man. "May I ask who it is decided to desecrate my home?" Each syllable was seething with barely contained rage.

"Caleb Montori" he replied cheerfully. "I'd shake your hand but I'm kind of preoccupied here." He tugged at the cuffs. "Then again I'd probably just break your wrist. I'd like to, actually." Yes, there was definitely something wrong with this kid.

"Threats probably aren't the best way to go." Emma hissed in his ear. "You're in enough trouble as it is kid." Again he grinned.

"Trust me sheriff. I know what I'm doing."

"Is that all you've to say for yourself?" Regina snapped. "Because if it is then you can take him away Sheriff Swan. I'll be calling you later with the charges."

"'m not done, actually" said Caleb. Tugging at the cuffs a second time he turned his body to face the mayor. He looked her in the eye. "Game on, bitch." Suddenly he broke into a fit of giggles, body moving like they were tickled by an unseen hand. "Always wanted to say that to you. Well then, take me away Sheriff. Do your job. Sorry to have bothered you and your son so early Madame Mayor. No wait," he stopped. "That's a lie. Sorry to have bothered your son at least. Growing kids need their sleep."

Suddenly the hedge gave a little shake. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Emma said.

"Come on out kid." Blushing slightly at his discovery, Henry crawled from the hedge. Standing up he brushed himself clean of leaves and dirt.

"Henry" Regina scolded. "I told you to wait in the kitchen. Go back, now. I'll be just another minute."

"I'll take him, Regina." Mary Margaret had exited the patrol car and walked over. Much more forward than she usually was concerning the mayor. "I'm heading to school anyway to set up for the day. Henry can walk with me." Henry brightened. They'd pass by the castle on the way there. He'd be able to retrieve his book.

"Very well" Regina said almost off handedly. She glanced at the school teacher piercingly. "Have a good day honey."

"Bye mom. Bye Emma. Bye, Mrs. Nolan."

"See ya tonight kid," said Emma. She tightened her grip on the handcuffs.

"Goodbye Henry," Kathryn waved. "Goodbye Regina, I'm so sorry. I'll call you later, alright?"

"Goodbye Kathryn, thank you for coming." She, Emma, and Caleb watched as Kathryn joined David in their car and drove off towards the animal shelter. Mary Margaret and Henry left in the opposite direction, the boy beginning his usually babbling of fairytales and mythical stories, which his teacher was more than happy to listen to.

"You'll be pressing charges then?" Caleb asked the Mayor.

"Of course I will!" she almost yelled. Regaining her composure in an instant, she nodded to Emma. "Sheriff Swan. You'll be getting my call later." Turning, she strode back across her ruined yard towards the house.

'Come on kid" Emma told Caleb almost exasperatedly. "Let's get you out of here before you get into more trouble." He grinned.

"Fine by me."

* * *

><p>Henry felt his face grow hot with tears. It was ruined. Completely ruined. His castle lay in pieces, knocked asunder by the furious New England storm. Bits of wood and dirt clods were everywhere. There wasn't even anything to climb on anymore. Just a pile of wood and memories.<p>

"Oh don't worry sweetheart," Mary Margaret comforted, squeezing his shoulder. Henry didn't really hear her though. He broke into a run and slid on his knees into the wreckage. Ignoring his teacher's calls he tore furiously at the ground. Dirt built up beneath his fingernails and pebbles tore at his palms, but he didn't care he had to find it. Insurmountable relief filled him as he made contact with something hard. Brushing aside dirt and sand, he uncovered a square wooden box.

"Thank God" he whispered. Prying open the lid, he took from it the familiar book. A piece of paper had been placed inside the cover. Like a book mark. Curiously he pulled it out. On the papers front fold was drawn an incredibly elaborate illustration of a cobra unfurling itself around a sword stuck in the ground. Beneath it, printed in tiny letters were the words Open me now, Henry. He did as the words said of course. Curiosity wouldn't let him do otherwise. As soon as the paper was stretched out across his knee everything changed. Henry felt it, like something dropping into his stomach. "What the heck was that?" he asked aloud. He didn't dwell on it for long. The feeling had passed, and things were as they should be. So, he began to read.

_Henry_

_First of all, please look around you. Notice anything different?_

Henry spun his neck around. A high pitched gasp escaped his throat. Everything had frozen. The waves breaking along the rocky coast line had stopped midair. A man walking a dog in the distance had frozen, and so had Mary Margaret halfway through the motions of coming to his side. Heart thumping like a drum, Henry continued reading.

_Everything's frozen hasn't it? Why? Well, magic of course. Unfortunately, that was the last spark I had. You won't be able to replicate the time stop with this letter again. Sorry. I know how much proof of magic is to you. Sorry, I'm probably just confusing you aren't I? Well top start off my name is Caleb Montori. Yeah, the guy who got arrested for vandalizing your house. How did I know where this box was buried and that you'd come to dig it up? That's rather complicated actually. You see, I know the truth about Storybrooke. The whole truth. That everyone here, with the exception of you and Emma Swan are actually fairytale characters wiped of their identities. That's partially the reason why I hit your house like I did. I know who Regina really is. The evil queen from your story book. _

_Listen now, and listen carefully Henry, because it's vital that you follow my instructions exactly. Over the next few days the queen is going to pull Emma into a trap. Don't worry, she'll be fine. It's just that as a result, Regina will make her look like a fool in front of the town meeting, and she'll restrict Emma from seeing you without her expressed permission. Again, don't panic. That won't last forever. But here's where you really have to listen carefully. The trap has to go off. Don't try anything to stop it. It'll lull the queen into a false sense of security. If my plans are going to work I'll need that advantage. A few more quick things you need to know. Sydney Glass isn't to be trusted. You've guessed he's the magic mirror right, the way he hovers around the queen like a servant? He's not to be trusted. He's part of the trap for Emma, he's the queens spy. Another thing, David Nolan and Mary Margaret are seeing each other in secret. I know how to restore their memories. But I can't now. If they remember too soon it could knock everything out of balance. The situation has to be controlled precisely. _

_And, above all, DO NOT TRUST Mr. Gold. The queen's devious, but he's dangerous. More so than any other being in either world. Well, except for a friend of mine. But dangerous or not he's hardly a threat to us._

_So, now that I've dumped a boatload of information on you you're probably wondering how I know all this. I'm psychic, for one. Well sort of. It's more complicated than that. In a way I can foretell the future. Simply put, I know how things are going to happen. I know how they have to happen. If my plans are at all on schedule, then in a minute or two I'll be bailed out of jail. I'll still be having a trial of course. I won't be allowed to leave town. Then again, only Emma can really leave, whether or not she's bound by the curse. I could never leave completely. And even when I did, I ended up coming back now. _

_Wait for my trial. That's when my plans are going to go off. Why should you trust me? Because I'm Operation Cobra's number one operative. Emma's the savior, but you know she doesn't really believe. Before I'm done, she will. I'm on your side kid. Keep quiet, and I'll come find you soon. We need to talk. _

_Sincerely_

_Caleb Montori, The Wolf King_

_PS: You know the writer with the motorcycle? Him you can trust. Don't worry. I've got him covered too. _


	3. The Questions

**So I repost the last chapter today, mostly because of one huge typo I made. When the letter in the last chapter said "DO NOT TRUST" I forgot to put Mr. Gold at the end of that sentence. He's who the letter said not to trust. I've already made the changes, but I'm worried I've ruined the stories chances with the mistakes I've made. Oh well, back to work. Happy reading.**

When they got to the station Emma began the routine laid out in the employee handbook. She took Caleb's wallet, which was all he had on him, removed the handcuffs and deposited him in the cell while letting Leroy out for the morning. Another night indoors had done him some good, and there was a bit more color in his cheeks.

"Good luck out there ol' boy" Caleb clapped him on the back as he passed. "Stay out of trouble now. I might come looking for ya after I get out. Got a little project I need some help on" Leroy grumbled a reply. He wasn't really awake yet.

Watching the town trouble maker go, Caleb sat himself against the cell wall.

"Nicer than I remember, sheriff. Looked a lot smaller from the outside. Always wondered what it was like." Shaking her head, Emma leafed through the wallets contents. No I.D. No credit card, no drivers license, not even any of the buisiness cards people are always handing out. Just seven crisp hundred dollar bills.

"I gotta ask you some questions now. Protocol. You up for that?"

"Sure am sheriff. Fire away." Emma's nose wrinkled. Why the heck was he so happy? He had cash, but nowhere near enough for bail. Wasn't that reason enough to be upset?

"You said you're name's Caleb Montori. Any documentation? There's no I.D in here." She held up the wallet.

"Nope. None. Wouldn't have a lot of use for 'em anyway. I know who I am."

"Any family you can call to bail you out?" That wasn't one of the standardized questions listed in the book. Emma scoffed inwardly at her sympathy. Just do your job, she told herself. Just cause the kid's probably fresh out of the system doesn't mean he gets special treatment. Her sympathies were out of control these days. First the twins, now some punk kid? Before coming to town she was as open as a door welded shut, then frozen in liquid carbonite. No one got in before.

"Nope. Mom's dead, got a deadbeat dad. Never met him, never want to. And my grandparents have way too much on their plate to pick me up. I've got bail coming though sheriff. I'll be out of here in about" he checked his watch. "Ten minutes. Approximately. My buisiness partner may wait a bit longer than I told him too. See how far he can stretch our agreement. No worries though, he'll be here."

"That's unlikely" Emma muttered. She sank into the revolving chair behind her desk. It was neat and squared away, with a clean pad of paper set off to one side. Just like Graham had left it. His jacket hung reverently in the corner. She hadn't really had to use the desk yet. Most of her job so far had been patrolling the streets, answering distress calls. Now she was on to paperwork. Oh goody. Pulling the pad in front of her she scribbled down what little information she had on the perp. A name, probably fake.

"Ok kid. Let's here your side of the story. Why'd you do it?"

"Two reasons" he held up a finger. He slid off the wall, laying flat backed on the ground. "One, to play the agent of karma. Mayor had it coming. Had a lot more coming than a few broken windows. But hey, I did what I could."

"It's not really your place to deal out punishments, kid. And what do you have against the mayor? You don't even live here."

"She had it coming. And this isn't my first time in town" he said simply, leaving his answer at that. He raised a second finger. "Two, and most importantly, I wanted to get your attention sheriff Swan." Emma blinked. Her? What the hell'd he want with her? They'd never even met before.

"Me? What the hell do you want with me?"

"To talk to you. Tell you a couple things. Secrets." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. That was a line creeps had tried on her on more than one occasion. Caleb realized his poor word choice just a little too late.

"Nooooot that kind of secret," he waved his hands wildly. "I'm not that kind of guy. Especially for you." The sheriff's eyebrow rose. "No offense. You're not my type. Besides, I'm spoken for. Trust me sheriff, I'm not here to creep on you, I'm here to help you."

"Help me? You don't even know me kid. I don't know what you're playing at, but you're not helping anyone from in there. I want to help you but I can't unless you answer my questions. Starting with, what are you on?"

"Fae dust. Keeps the pain down. But that's not the point. The point is I'm here to help you whether you want me to or not. You think your son's crazy. He's not." Knocking the chair aside, Emma leapt to her feet, hand flying to the weapon at her hip.

"How do you know anything about Henry?" she demanded. "Answer me!"

"Woah woah woah sheriff," he raised his hands defensively. "No need for that. Like I said I'm not a creep. Not a stalker either. I've been in town a few days. Heard you two talking outside the cafe. He's really into fairy tales isn't he?" She took her hand away from the gun.

"That's none of your business."

"Sure it is. He's right you know. About everything. The evil queen, time not moving, you as some kind of savior. It's all true." For a moment Emma just stared.

"That 'fae dust' you mentioned must be one hell of a drug. You might wanna lay back kid, wait 'til that crap wears off. Be quiet about it too. I got a ton of paperwork to file since you don't have an I.D. Work's hard enough with one fairy tale crazed kid yakking in my ear."

"He isn't lying. You can tell, can't you? Heard you call it your 'superpower'."

"Stop talking kid. It's none of your business." She spun her chair around and began digging the proper forms out of the filing cabinet. The forms were long, and the text was incredibly small. They would take at least three or four hours to do up right. Oh joy, this would be loads of fun. Caleb stood up and leaned against the bars.

"I got a superpower of my own you know. I see people for what they are. What they really are. And let me tell you sheriff, when I look at you, I see a savior. Shining like the sun. Maybe you need to open your mind a bit. The biggest problem with this world of ours is that people don't believe in anything anymore. Except for Henry. He believes in something. Look into your sons eyes, Emma Swan, and tell him with a straight face that he's wrong or lying. You can't though, can you? Because you know he's telling the truth."

"That's it!" In a flurry of blonde hair Emma whipped her chair back around. Anger bubbled at last to the surface. "Who the hell do you think you are telling me about _my _son? You're just some punk kid! What makes you thinks you can come in here and-"

"Am I interrupting something?" Mid-rant the glass front doors had swung open, and Mr. Gold had entered the room completely unnoticed. In one hand he twiddled his heavily burnished cane, in the other, a check.

"No" said Emma, swallowing the lump in her throat. The spat of anger would have to wait for some other time. Nothing good could come of blowing up in front of Mr. Gold. "Can I help you Mr. Gold?"

"Indeed you can" he gestured to Caleb. "I'm here to spring a business associate of mine. Mr. Montori, what trouble have you gotten yourself into?" he tutted, like a parent disciplining a small child who'd stolen sweets.

"Nothing I didn't plan ahead of time. I was wondering when you'd get here. Don't know what I was worried about. You always keep your appointments don't you Mr. Gold."

"I do. Here you are Miss Swan," he offered her the check. "This should more than cover Mr. Montori's bail." Snatching it away, Emma unfolded the check. her eyes widened. That was _way _more than enough. Mr. Gold did indeed have very deep pockets. A good thing too. She really needed to get this punk out of her hair.

"You can't leave town until after the trial. Or I'll have to come after you. _Don't _make me come after you kid." The last bit she growled threateningly. Caleb saluted dramatically.

"Aye aye Sheriff." He stepped back as she unlocked the cell. "You won't get anymore trouble from me. Thank you Mr. Gold. Glad to see you'll be keeping the rest of our agreement."

"Of course, Mr. Montori" he hissed in reply. "I always keep to my contracts." From the right angle, Emma swore she could see his forked tongue settle behind his teeth. That was ultimately what separated the wealthy pawnbroker from the mayor. Regina pissed her off. Mr. Gold scared her. Caleb walked casually from the cell and picked up his wallet from the desk. He checked over it's contents.

"I get this back right?"

"Yeah. Just stay out of trouble." She was just trying to get him out now. Something about him was wrong. Not only wrong...off, and...familiar somehow. Those crystalline blue irises pierced her in the strangest way. Like somehow he was looking through her, and in to her.

"Alright. See ya around sheriff. Think about what I said . Good kid, Henry. Goodbye Mr. Gold, have a good day." With that he walked from the sheriff's office whistling a merry tune with a spring in his step. Emma watched Mr. Gold slither out behind him.

He was irritating. Really, really irritating, and she would be glad to have him gone, but she would have to keep a close eye on him. Apparently he'd been following her and Henry, listening on their conversations. That wasn't okay in Emma's book. He was probably harmless, just some stupid doped up kid. But still, she'd watch him. Nothing was going to hurt Henry. Not when she was in town.

* * *

><p>She was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot. Who in their right mind would try to catch Regina freaking Mills embezzling city money? Emma, that's who. Sydney's offer was just too sweet to resist. Catching Regina red handed would've shown the city just what kind of person she really was. A scheming, manipulative, back-stabbing bitch who used every way possible to sway the people of Storybrooke to her will. That hadn't happened. Instead, Regina looked like a warmhearted politician determined to make the children of her town happy. Emma on the other hand was humiliated, and looked like an absolute fool in front of everyone.<p>

She'd sunken to Regina's level. Broken all the rules, planted bugs, played dirty. And what did she have to show for it? A tarnished reputation and a son she wasn't allowed to see. Emma sighed into her hands. The last few days had been, to put it bluntly, craptastic. The rain storms of the previous week had destroyed the castle, and in the aftermath the mayor had had she and Henry's special place bulldozed away completely, only to replace it with a shiny, modern playscape for the children of the town. Not that she'd been open about it. She'd hidden the plans away, almost as if she were planting bait, just waiting for Emma to come find it. Regina had played her, and she'd done a damn good job of it.

Again Emma sighed. Yeah, she'd screwed up. On the couch beside her lay the bulky, army-style walkie-talkie, buzzing every couple of minutes. Henry was trying to contact her. But she couldn't pick up. Regina would know about it somehow.

"You wanna talk about it?" Mary Margaret asked from behind the counter. Wielding a knife the length of forearm she diced vegetables for soup. Cooking meat filled the apartment with rich, spice laced aromas that entranced the senses. Mary Margaret did most if not all the cooking for the two of them. Which was probably a good thing. The closest Emma had ever done to cooking was heat up some ramen and murder a toaster.

"Not really" Emma called back. "Don't really wanna remind myself of my own stupidity."

"You just made a mistake. Everyone does. Maybe talking about it'll help." Setting the soup to a low simmer, she walked over and plopped down on the couch opposite Emma. Inwardly, Emma groaned. Mary Margaret was perhaps the perfect roommate. Kind, a wonderful cook, and the fact that unlike her previous roommates actually made her feel at home. Well meaning as she was though, Emma did not want to talk about it. At all.

"Tell you what. I'll talk about it if you tell me what's going on between you and David." Pink blush filled Mary's cheeks.

"Alright" she agreed shakily. "You go first." Well played Mary, well played. Breathing deeply, Emma began, albeit reluctantly.

"I did exactly what she wanted me to. I played by her rules, and now I'm paying for it."

"She won't keep Henry away forever," Mary soothed. "He'd end up complaining too much about it. And if Regina hasn't noticed, most of the times you spend together, he comes to you."

"Yeah, I guess," Emma conceded. "That's not really what's bugging me though. I broke a promise to Henry. I...I did what she would have done. How can I be this..savior of his if I act like the bad guy?" She massaged her temples furiously. Were Mary Margaret anyone else, she wouldn't be saying all this. Opening up wasn't something she did.

"Everyone makes mistakes" Mary repeated. "Do better another day. Henry will forgive you, always. That's why we make mistakes, so we can learn from them." Emma gave a little snort, but she was smiling.

"You sound like a book of proverbs, you know that?"

"I'll take that as a compliment" Mary grinned haughtily. "Proverbs are meant to help people. Are mine working?"

"A bit, yeah. So, what's up with you and David?" she asked, strategically changing the subject. More pink rose in Mary's cheeks.

"We're seeing each other. Secretly," she admitted finally.

"Bad, bad idea, Mary" Emma said darkly. "Trust me on this one. Seeing a married man is really, really stupid. I know that from experience."

"Experience?" Mary whispered. They were getting into heavy topics now. Only very rarely did conversation drift to Emma's past. She was an incredibly private person. If you asked, chances were she would ignore the question and change the subject. Yet now she had brought it up herself.

"Yeah. Henry's father. He was charming, funny, and a total scumbag...Lucky Henry turned out so good...no thanks to me."

"No thanks to Regina either" Mary put in quickly. It was a hastily attempted reassurance, but it was well meant.

"No" Emma said. "It's thanks to you, probably. He had to get that kindness from someone. You're a great teacher, Mary." They fell into an awkward silence. Mary was flattered, that was one of the nicest things anyone had ever told her. She didn't know what else to say though. Any further digging for facts could end up hitting a soft spot. "I'll go check on the soup." She rose and glided to the stove, colorful socks slippery on wooden floors.

"Make sure he's what you want, Mary" Emma told her firmly. She stared at the walkie-talkie, Henry's voice ringing in her ears. "Because if he isn't, then he's not worth the trouble." Henry was what she wanted, and she'd be there for him. No matter what Regina said.

**LINEBREAK**

On the other side of the walkie-talkie Henry was growing more and more frustrated. He lay splayed across his bed, the lights dimmed and the curtains drawn. Being the Mayor, his mother had gotten the windows fixed within a single day of their destruction. Marco did good work. Anything in town that needed fixing, he was up for the job.

"Come on" Henry whispered almost pleadingly to the walkie. He wouldn't be able to see Emma for a while, and it was undoubtedly the queens doing. Ideas were running rampant through his head. Caleb's note was hidden safely in his pocket. The queen could never find it. It had way too much intel. Someone else was helping Operation Cobra. Someone with access to magic, and the knowledge of how to restore the peoples memories. He was obviously smart if he'd planned all this out. But apart from telling him to wait, and to avoid Mr. Gold at all cost- do not trust him the note had said- Caleb hadn't left him anything to do. How could he just sit there when there was so much that needed doing?

He just had to tell Emma. He trusted her more than anyone. She was his partner...his mom.

Suddenly, crackling noises rose from the walkie. Elated glee filled Henry to the brim.

"Yes!" he whispered. "I knew you'd answer me!"

"It's not who you think it is kid" Calebs voice rumbled through the walkie's tiny speaker. "Emma can't use these 'cause the queen has the frequency tapped. Emma talks to you, the queen'll know about it. I've got us on a secure channel now. Ready for that talk of ours?"

"Heck yeah!" he'd been ready for days. He'd been waiting for something like this ever since he'd opened the storybook. Finally, it was happening.

"Good, then sneak out the back door and meet me at the new castle. Don't take the streets though. Someone might see you that way. There's a secret path through the woods that'll get you right here. I've sent a friend of mine to come get you. Follow him. Now get moving."

"Yes sir!" For just this reason he hadn't put on his pajamas. The queens snores were easily heard through the walls. He had a clean run for the door. Opening his door just a crack, Henry checked the hallway just in case. On the balls of his feet he padded down the back staircase. It was a simple path to the door, just down the hall, down the stairs, and out. Carefully he slid the glass door open, making sure not to make any noise. Breathing in the cool evening air, he stepped outside. That's when he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Waiting not ten feet away was a snow white wolf, one red eye, the other black, both fixed on him. The wolf sat up at his arrival. It turned towards the wooded area that bordered the far back of the property. Looking over it's shoulder, it made a gesture. Like it was saying, 'come on'. Heart pumping wildly, brain a twitter with excitement, Henry followed.


	4. The Future

The forest was a dark winding maze of ancient trees, overgrown shrubs and a thin layer of fog that formed at the advent of twilight. Pumping his arms back and forth, Henry darted over gnarled roots, and doged between low hanging branches. The wolf was moving very fast. It's snowy white head bobbed up and down ahead of him, just near enough for him to see.

"Slow down!" Henry called. Of course the wolf didn't call back. It just kept running, leading them on.

The opaque fog that hung in the air made it difficult to see. He had no idea where the wolf had led him. They'd crossed the narrow roads that crisscrossed through the woods, but with the fog and the darkness, it was impossible to identify any recognizable land marks.

Henry wouldn't give up though. Fairy tale characters never discovered anything this incredible only to ignore it. Heroes didn't chase after their destiny just to back out when things got dangerous. Heck, things getting dangerous usually meant something important was about to happen! After a few minutes of running the trees began to thin out into a wide, circular clearing. Beneath him the ground became a flattened dirt path. The castle came into sight, eerie moonlight casting oblong shadows across it plastic turrets and towers.

The wolf however didn't stop. It barreled over the wood chip filled enclosure of the castle back into the trees, not looking back.

"Up here, kid." Henry looked back up at the castle. Sitting on the highest tower, legs dangling over the edge, was Caleb, walkie talkie in his lap. Those misty blue irises of his twinkled in the moonlight. Grinning, Henry sprinted up the towers black rectangular steps. Caleb patted the stop beside him, which Henry gladly took.  
>Neither of them said anything for a long while.<p>

"It's not the same, is it?" Caleb asked, voice full of melancholy. "This castle I mean. It's brand new, bigger, better looking, but it's just not the same as the old one."

"You're right." Henry agreed. He'd voiced this opinion to some of his classmates, earning him more than a few weird looks. More weird looks than usual anyway. None of them had even touched the original castle. It had been a decrepit pile of worn out wood, held together by a ramshackle assortment of metal bars. Henry had loved it anyway. He and Emma's special place. None of the other kids understood. "It's not the same. The first one was special."

"Yeah, it was. And not just to you and Emma. It marked where the real one was. Prince Charming's castle by the sea, capitol of the kingdom." That statement, involving the land of fairy tales, brought forth a wave of questions from Henry.

"How do you know about Operation Cobra? How do you know Emma and me? How do you know so much? Who are you?"He asked them one after the other without stopping. The excitement was just too great. Something was actually happening! He was having an adventure of his own. Suddenly he stopped, dead. Nervously his eyes darted to where the wolf had left the clearing. The wolf king... He gasped, scootching as far away from Caleb as the ledge would allow. "Are you a werewolf?" Caleb burst out laughing.

"HA! Good one kid. A werewolf, guess I look the part with these scars right?" He ran a finger over his mangled cheek. "No, kid. I'm not a werewolf. Most werewolves aren't nearly as sociable as I am, except for a friend of mine, she's a very socialable werewolf. As for your other questions...that's a bit complicated." He hesitated. "Well, here's the short version." Reaching behind him he pulled a nylon backpack into view. Unzipping the pocket, he pulled out a leather bound book. Delicately, he placed in Henry's lap. Moonlight shone on the cover, revealing it's title.  
>Once Upon A Time: Volume II<p>

"Basically, I'm from the future." It might have been helpful to have a surgeon on hand, because Henry's jaw dropped off, his eyes the epitome of child-like awe and wonder. Caleb kept talking.  
>"This is like the one you have. I know you don't have it anymore, don't worry. Our writer friend has it. He'll need it if everythings to fall into place correctly. Otherwise, Snow White will never get it in the first place. This one though, I wrote. Because I was there. Operation Cobra makes everything in these pages happen. All of it..."<p>

"What happens?" Henry asked breathlessly. "Do...do we win?"

"Yeah," Caleb snorted. "We win. Not the way we wanted to though. That's why I came back. To make it all right. Here, have a look." Reaching over he flipped the book open about halfway through. Exquisitely penned script- written in what Caleb claimed was Elven- accompanied a vibrant painting of an army marching across a great plain, desolate and decaying. The whole of the landscape spoke of hopelessness, of death. Dominating the painting however were a group of mounted figures at the army's head. A man, strong of figure with a golden crown atop his head. Henry recognized him at once. King James, Prince charming. He recognized the rider at his left as well, a feminine warrior with a cap of black hair. Snow White. And at the front, hair a gleaming gold was Emma, raising a magnificent sword with a hilt of jewels. Their attention was focused on a dark castle looming in the distance, draped in shadows, lightning crackling behind it.  
>Above them flew a whipping banner bearing a white swan, flying across a plane of blue.<p>

"About two years from now the curse starts to break, and the whole of Storybrooke starts getting pulled back into it's proper state. That's when it all goes to hell. We go to war against the queen." He pointed the swan banner. "That's becomes Emma's seal. The white swan. People flock to her in droves. Of course they do, she's the savior, their messiah. So together the free peoples of the land fought against the queen's forces." He paused, burying his face in a palm. "The curse still held to some extent. Every now and again bits of the land, and people, would revert to their equivalents in this world. Buildings go back to what they were here, people lose their memories again, but those who stay close to Emma were safe. The curse is weak around her..."

"What...what happened?" Henry said after a long pause. " Where are you in all this?" He reached to turn the page, but Caleb caught him at the wrist.

"I'm right there," he pointed to another figure in the painting, one overlooked in the wake of the others. An armored teenager carrying a sword, flanked by a white wolf, one red eye, one grey eye. "People called me the Wolf King because the wolves are my friends. They answer my calls, they help me. The wolves don't call me that, wolves don't have kings. They talk to each other, and to me, through a weird kind of telepathy. It's with pictures and images instead of words. They called me Longtooth, 'cause of the sword. As for what happened... A lot went wrong when it shouldn't have. First off the curse broke too well too fast."

"Too well?" Henry interrupted. "But that's a good thing! How can breaking the curse be bad?"

"Good question. You see Henry, when the curse started breaking everything just snapped back to it's fairy tale reality too fast for any preparation. The queen and her cronies had people ready in an instant because she's behind the curse, but us? We we're caught off guard, we didn't have time to react. We lost a lot of good people that first day. what we didn't realize is that the curse is centered around certain people more than others. Can you guess, Henry? Who is the curse centered on?" That was an easy one. Didn't even have to think about it.

"Snow White." He said. "Snow White and Prince Charming. The queen wanted to ruin their happiness."

"Correct. And what that meant is that when the two of the them remembered at the same time, the curse literally began colapsing. Other people started remembering too once they did. It became easier for them to remember. Just saying a familiar phrase from their past lives could do it. It all happened so fast, we got dragged into a warzone with no way to fight back. The second problem...that came during the end game...the last battle."

"Between Emma and the queen" Henry filled in for him. That was what he'd been dreaming of since discovering the book. A final battle between good and evil, with Emma, as the champion of good, emerging victorious. However, Caleb shook his head no.

"Nah kid. The queen went down before the end. She enacted the curse, yeah, but she didn't create it. The immense, dark power behind it isn't hers. She's a threat, a big one even. But she isn't the true enemy. Ultimately what ruined everything was a simple agreement. Remember when Emma made it so Cinderella could keep her baby?" Henry nodded. "To do that, she made a deal with Mr. Gold. He let Ashley keep her baby, and she owes him a favor. That favor ends up amounting to her life."  
>Cold spreading through his heart, Henryfelt his hands shaking. Emma would die to save the world of fairy tales? No, no, no...that wasn't what he wanted at all. It was the opposite. Seeing the boys stricken expression, Caleb added."<p>

"Don't worry kid. That's why I'm here in the first place. To fix what went wrong. And I need your help Henry. Can you help me?"

"Of course I can!" his tone was one of disbelief. "Of course I'll help you! Why the heck wouldn't I? This is what Operation Cobra's for!" Caleb chuckled.

"Should've known you'd be in. Okay. For my plan to work we need to slowly start making people remember. We're starting with Snow White. She can help us. She's not quite as good in a fight as Prince Charming, but she's less brash. She won't just charge in without planning ahead of time. You, Henry, are going to make her remember."

"How? I've tried everything I can think of. She even known I think she's Snow White, and that David's Charming. If that stuff didn't work, what will?" Smile spreading from ear to ear, like a madman, Caleb stood up and slipped his book back into the bag. Together the pair climbed down from the castle and entered the woods. Here, the creeping vines were thicker, and created giant green spiderwebs between the tree trunks. Henry had never gone in this deep before.

"Have you read the story of Oberon, the king of fairies?" Caleb asked as they walked. Taking short steps, he carefully shoved the bigger bits of debris out of the way with his foot.

"Yes" said Henry said. "He's the ruler of the forest fairies, and his sister is the Blue fairy."

"Right. What the book doesn't mention is that he has a daughter. Ariena, princess of the flowers. Ah, here we are." In no time at all they had reached a small forest meadow. The beginnings of dew had begun to forms, sprinkling the entire place with moisture. Wildflowers bloomed in great bunches, their colors muted by the night. One by one, Caleb examined each of the flower's undersides. This process took nearly ten whole minutes.

"Aha!" Caleb whispered as he came upon a bright orange flower. "Look here, Henry, and be quiet." Pressing a finger to his lips, he lifted the flower up to show it's bottom. There, clinging to the underside, was a tiny butterfly. Striped patterns decorated it's wings, a miniature tapestry of color. Then, in the lowest of voices, Caleb began to sing.

"O goddess of nature,  
>O Mother of nymph,<br>Please pass on your blessing  
>To all those who sing.<br>For the power of flowers resides in your tears  
>Bless us with your radiance, and blind all our fears."<p>

Silence fell for several long moments. Right as Henry opened his mouth to speak, it happened. A cocoon of light, woven of gold threads in the air, enveloped the butterfly in it's warmth. For a split second, the meadow was bright as day, and when it faded, a tiny girl, not even six inches tall lay in Caleb's outstretched hand.

"Arienna, princess of fairies" he said. He offered her to Henry. "Bring her to Snow White when she's alone. The two of you sing that song to her, and she'll remember. It'll bring back a particularly powerful memory."

"What?" Henry gasped, stepping back hastily. "What am I supposed to do with her?" What _would _he do with her? What did one do with a fairy princess?

"Keep her safe for now. The song made her revert to her true form even when she's asleep. The others will have to wait until later. We can't make too many people know at once. She should sleep for at least two days, so your pocket should be safe until she wakes up. When she does, explain everything." Lighting up the digital screen, he checked his watch. "Listen, Henry, you've got to get back before too long. But before you go, there's one more thing I need you to do."

"What's that?" What more could he possibly want when he'd handed over a comatose princess? Could he possibly have something even more nerve racking?

"Open Emma's heart. She's had a hard life, kid. She doesn't believe in happy endings." Straightening up, Caleb turned to leave. "Right now, she has a heart of stone. Only you can make her believe. She cares about you more than anyone, Henry. Remember that." Without another word, Caleb sprinted into the trees, disappearing into the night.

Right on cue, the wolf reappeared. Henry's guide back home.

Henry stared after him, thinking. Things really were changing now. He looked down at the sleeping princess, her silky black locks, no longer than his eyelashes hung in her face. They knew what would happen before it did. Emma may have died in Caleb's twisted, sick future, but that wouldn't happen here. Not when they had forewarning. Henry wouldn't let it happen.


	5. The Song

Henry didn't get a wink of sleep that night. He couldn't sleep, not with the sleeping princess so close by. For hours, he just sat there looking at her, taking in every little detail of her form. The black hair that fell past her shoulders, curled slightly at the cream colored skin, soft and serene looking. And her colorful, rainbow streamed wings, like those of a butterfly, folded neatly behind her back. Those he stared at most of all. A little girl with wings. He couldn't help himself. She was a fairy, a real, living, breathing fairy, physical proof that he was right all along. Magic really did exist. Fairy tales were more than just stories.

He was right. The curse was breaking.

Operation Cobra was working.

Occasionally, when he was was feeling particularly bold, he ran a finger ever so lightly down the fairy's arm. Her skin was soft as cotton, supple to the touch. She was very, very pretty. Henry felt his face heat up at such a ridiculous thought. Why would he think something so stupid? Girls weren't pretty, girls were...well, girls! They were loud and weird and always trying to tell you what to do. Except for Miss Blanchard of course. She was nice..

Giving his head a good shake, he glanced at the bedroom door, which he'd barred with his dresser in case the queen woke up. Her snoring could still be heard echoing through the hallway, but he couldn't be too careful. Operation Cobra would not be compromised!

"Arienna," he whispered, looking over her again. The name felt good on his tongue. It felt right. Arienna, princess of the flowers, as Caleb had called her. The title fit like a glove. Again he touched her arm. Touch alone sent light tingling sensations across his hand, surging like electricity down his nerves. She was so fascinating. But what was he to do with her?

Caleb had said she would sleep for forty-eight hours, two days. What could he do with her for two days? He couldn't leave her in his room. The queen would find her immediately. He supposed he could carry her with him, but in his pocket, lying prone and defenseless, she'd probably end up squished to pixie dusty. Henry groaned. Why hadn't he asked Caleb for specifics?

Maybe I could wake her, he thought as time passed. That way I can explain everything now and she can help me. The idea sounded reasonable to him. Caleb had said she would sleep for two days on her own. He hadn't said anything about speeding up the process.

"Hey," he whispered, nudging the princess' arm with his pinky finger. "Hey, Arienna. Can you hear me? Wake up." A tiny huff of breath escaped her tiny lips. She moved slightly, head cocking one degree to the left, black locks bobbing.

"Come on Arienna, wake up." Her response was bigger this time. Heavier breathing, uncomfortable shifts in body position.

"No...oh, 'm sleepy," she mumbled, barely comprehensible.

"Come on," he urged one last time. "Wake up!" Another jab to her arm earned what could only be called a sonic boom.

Shrieking, terrified sound escaped the princess' tiny lips. Henry felt his ears pop. Instinctively his hands flew to cover his ears. "Stop!" he grunted. "You'll wake her up!" Braving the painful noise, he reached a hand forward - leaving his ear unshielded - and clamped a hand over her mouth. Warm vibrations hit his palm as she continued to scream, muffled. Henry listened fearfully. There was no way the queen slept through that. He could no longer hear her snoring.

"Henry!" Regina's tired, slurring voice called from the master bedroom. "What are you doing?" The dull thudding of approaching footsteps sounded in the hall. Henry's mouth opened to reply, but was interrupted by an onslaught of tiny fists and the scratching of tiny fingernails.

"Ouch!" Henry yelped. He looked down at his hand. A pair of violet, luminescent eyes were staring back at him. Arienna shoved his hand aside with her elbows.

"Release me you fiend!" she cried indignantly. "My father will hear of this, I swear it! Then you shall feel the wrath of the fairies!"

"Be quiet!" Henry pleaded. "She'll hear you!" He didn't wait for a reply. His mother's footsteps were fast approaching. There would be no explaining a fairy on his bed. If she walked in, it would all be over. Grabbing Arienna in his fist he rolled across the bed and darted to his dresser. Flinging open the top most drawer, he shoved the fairy princess under a mountain of balled socks, right next to his tin of baseball cards and the slingshot he'd tried to make when he was eight. Ten year olds hid a lot of stuff in sock drawers.

"Shhhhh," he pressed a finger to his lips. "I'll explain everything later. Just please be quiet!" In a single fluid motion, he jumped back onto his bed and ducked under the covers. Just as the door opened, he reached his pillow and flipped over so he was lying on his back. The 'I was totally sleeping not talking to mystical creatures' pose.

"Henry, are you all right?" Despite the weariness in her voice, genuine concern showed on her face. Well, genuinely faked concern. Why would the evil queen care if he was okay?

"I'm fine, Mom," he said, faking a yawn and stretching his arms above him. "Just had a nightmare. Can't really remember much about it."  
>Regina walked closer and sat on the side of the bed. She ran a gentle hand through his hair.<p>

"Okay honey. Come get me if you need anything, all right?"

"All right," he smiled sheepishly. "Night, Mom."

"Goodnight, honey." She pressed a kiss to his forehead. With a swish of her bathrobe, she glided like a ghost from the room. Henry waited to hear her door shut before getting up again. Even then, he tiptoed at a snail's pace back to the dresser. Arienna had apparently gotten the message, because she hadn't made a peep since being hidden. Slowly, Henry pulled open the drawer and reached a hand inside.

"Are you okay, Arienna?" he whispered.

"No I am not okay!" she burst as he pulled her from the drawer. Bits of cotton thread stuck to her body. "How dare you treat me this way, human! My father will hear about this!"

"Shhh!" he insisted. "Please, Arienna, you have to be quiet. My name is Henry, let me explain. Do you remember anything about a curse cast by the evil queen, Snow White's stepmother?" The expression of anger melted off the young fairy's face, soon replaced by one of confused recognition.

"Of course I know of it," she snapped. "My aunt, the Great Blue Fairy, is assisting the human king in combating it. What of it?"  
>Henry hesitated. So she didn't even know the curse had happened yet. To her, she'd simply gone to sleep one evening and awoken in a strange human's bedroom.<p>

"Listen, Arienna, the curse came. The queen...the queen took away all the happy endings. Look around. Everything's changed. This isn't your world." Those violet orbs broke their intense glare and moved to examine the room around them. Arienna's jaw fell. A high, girlish gasp escaped.

"Dear-dear Venus!" Her wings fluttered into life. Each wingbeat that struck the air left in its wake a glittering dust trail that faded away after a moment. The princess took a flying tour of the room, emitting ooh's and ahh's at each new discovery. She tapped on the light bulbs in the desk lamp, rapped on the glass in the window, fingered the intricate stitching of the clothes in the closet, and ran a tentative hand over the plastic of Henry's action figures. Glancing about one more time, taken in by the wonder of it all, she flew down to hover level with Henry's face.

Those violet eyes were full of tears.

"What has happened?" she asked. Her lip began to tremble. "Where is my family?"

"The curse happened, Arienna," Henry answered. "Everything's changed. Everyone from your world has a fake life here, and they can't remember who they really are. Time doesn't pass. They're just trapped here, forever. Your family... the other fairies are butterflies in the woods. That's the life they have here."

"Butterflies," Arienna mouthed wordlessly. "That...that despicable witch turned my people into common insects. And they're...gone." Salty tears trailed down her face, and she broke down in sobbing. Henry's heart broke at the sight. Fairies weren't supposed to cry. Fairies were happy, joyous creatures imbued with nature's own spirit.

"Hey," he tried to soothe her. "Don't cry. It'll all be okay. Emma's here. She's Snow White's daughter, she's gonna fix everything."

"Sn-Snow White's daughter? Snow White had her baby?" Arienna choked. "Then...the wardrobe worked? Someone escaped the curse?" Henry nodded.

"Yes! Now she and Caleb can make everyone remember again!" The fairy blinked.

"Cale-eb? Who is Cale-eb?"

"Oh, he's a friend. Caleb Montori. He's from the future! Don't worry, he's on our side."

"Cale-eb Mon-tree," she repeated slowly. Tears still clung to her cheeks. "That sounds like old Sylvan, an old fairy tongue. Faith without end, it means. Your friend must be great indeed to have earned such a title from my people. How is it that he woke me and not my kin?" Calmness was back in her composure, but the pain was still clearly visible in her eyes.

"He sang a song. He said we can't make too many people wake up at once or something really bad will happen. You and me are supposed to sing it to Snow White to get her memory back."

"I see. And what song was it?" Henry's eyes clenched shut. He had just had it! Yet now he struggled to remember the words.

"'O Goddess of nature..." That was all he could remember. "'O Goddess-"

"The song of life," Arienna cut him off. Her face flushed with pink. "Yes, this Cale-eb of yours is wise. That _would _make Snow White remember. It's a very...powerful memory."

"How do you know?" Henry asked, curiousity getting the best of him. "Were you there?" Arienna's face darkened from pink to red.

"Yes. It was rather beautiful. She and Prince Charming first kissed in the fairies' cave. It was..." She giggled. "I apologize. I'm something of a hopeless romantic. Kisses and princesses, they all kind of overwhelm me and make me feel all tingly inside." Her giggles evaporated. Her face took on an expression of stalwart determination. 'Well, if it will help to defeat the queen and free my people, then I will sing."

"Yes!" Henry cheered. He took one of her miniscule hands between his first and second fingers and shook vigorously. "Welcome to Operation Cobra!" Her brows shot upward.

"Operation Cobra? What is that, and why did it require you to dislocate my arm?" She didn't sound upset at being shaken within an inch of her life. But it did sound painful when she popped her shoulder back into place. Henry grinned.

"It's only the coolest thing ever!"

For the first time in his life, he had a real friend close to his own age. Or as close as he could be in age to fairy child. A friend with whom he could share secrets and plot his next plan of attack. Operation Cobra was getting so, so awesome.  
><strong>LINEBREAK<strong>

Mary Margaret had always loved children. Teaching was her vocation, and nothing brought her more happiness than to see those curious young faces smile up at her, ready to laugh and learn. Each morning she arrived to work early to set up for the day. Today's lesson revolved around state history, so around the room were piled various articles and knickknacks concerning Maine. Leaves from the state tree, pictures of the state bird, a timeline of Maine's history since its founding, and a copy of the state flag pinned to the blackboard.

As always, the children had taken to the lesson happily. Mary Margaret was a wonderful teacher. In her, every student found the ideal figure of authority. She was kind, firm but never bossy, and she gave hugs only the best of mothers could match. Above all though, she was a friend to the students. Other teachers never got as close as she did. It was unprofessional, they told her. You're meant to be their teacher, not their friend. But Mary never listened.

She loved her students, and nothing could change that.

Right now the kids were out at recess, giving Mary one of her few breaks of the day. She sat at her desk, a mug of coffee warm in her hand. She yawned. It was good to relax every now and again. While her students were wonderful they could be very, very tiring. They were, after all, ten year old kids.

Her eyes drifted over the students' desks, each buried under a mountain of construction paper and sticky tape. Their current project was to create a collage about Maine. They'd taken to it with gusto. If only all teachers could get their kids this enthusiastic about school work. Then the country's education problems would be over. Mary reached into her purse and withdrew a folded note bearing the name _Emma ._

Cautiously, she peered out the window behind her. The kids were still playing. There was no way she could be seen. She stood and walked to Henry's desk, placing the note between the pages of his history text book. That would make him smile.  
>It had been her idea to slip him these little notes from Emma. She had vague memories of notes from her mother in a picnic basket. Those had brought her little spurts of joy. Henry deserved the same. The whole situation irked her. Really irked her. It took a lot to do that.<p>

Regina had set a trap, and Emma had walked right into it. And as a result, she could no longer see Henry. That made Mary angry. Those who knew her would tell you that an angry Mary Margaret didn't exist. She was the perfect picture of meek civility. No one had ever seen her mad. Not a lot _could_ anger her. But this was different. This, was just plain evil.

Years ago, before she had met Emma, she probably would have sided with Regina in all this. Not because she liked Regina. Regina scared her, manipulated her, controlled everything she could. She would have sided with her because, when you though about it, she was completely justified in despising Emma with all being. Objectively, at least.

Regina had raised Henry from early infancy. She'd changed every diaper, soothed every scraped knee, provided for every need. As many would say it, if Emma was his mother, she was his mom. By almost every standard, Emma should've come off as an intruder in their lives. Someone trying to steal away the child she had willingly given away more than a decade ago.

Maybe Mary was biased, being her roommate and all, but she just didn't see that way. Regina may have raised Henry, but she seemed so...distant from him. There were no outward signs of abuse. No cuts or bruises or black eyes. But Henry always seemed so lonely. He always sat alone, and the other children seemed to gravitate away from him. If Regina really cared, why hadn't she stepped in to help? Why was she so willing to protect her right as Henry's mother, to go to such great lengths to force Emma away, then why wasn't she willing to be an active participant in his life?

_"She doesn't care," _Henry had said. _"I try to tell her how I feel but she says 'save it for Dr. Hopper."_

She was present physically, but emotionally, Regina was nowhere to be found. Were she any other woman, Mary would have liked to talk to her about it. Regina, however, was not someone to be challenged. At her best, she was a lioness patiently observing her pride. Dangerous, but complacent. At her worst, she was a venom spitting viper, devouring mice with her mouth all whilst crushing a horse to death with her body. Not someone to be trifled with.  
>It was for this reason Mary had given him the book of fairy tales. He was so lonely, so sad. These were stories with happy endings, where at the end of the day the villain lay defeated and the hero went home into a family's loving arms. Mary Margaret smiled.<p>

The boy was convinced she was Snow White. Perhaps it was wrong to indulge his fantasies. Everyone needed some idea to cling to. Even if it was delusional.

"Miss Blanchard?" a voice called from the door. Mary Margaret turned. Speak of the devil. There Henry was standing in the doorway. His jacket was open, and the shins of his pants were damp from the puddles on the playground.

"Yes, Henry?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He sounded anxious.

"Of course," she replied at once. She patted the seat closest to her. "Is something wrong?" It probably had something to do with the book, and his 'plans' to break the town free of the 'curse'. She was more than willing to play along.

"No. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to show you something." He plopped down on the chair and reached into his pocket. What emerged appeared to be a large, glittering insect. Except it wasn't an insect. It was a girl with wings on her back. The winged girl smiled.

Mary Margaret gaped. "Wha-What is this?" But she got no answer. Instead, Henry and the girl began to sing.

"O Goddess of nature  
>O mother of nymph,<br>Please pass on your blessing  
>To all those who sing.<br>For the power of flowers resides in your tears  
>Bless us with your radiance, and blind all our fears."<p>

Henry's pitch was a bit off, but the girl's was spot on, her voice a melodic ripple in the air that pierced the soul and enraptured the ear. Mary found the tune strangely familiar. The notes echoed through her mind, swaying back and forth, back and forth through her psyche. Her vision began to blur, she found herself humming the tune, and beneath her her knees buckled. Images danced across her vision. Like a dream. No, not a dream. A memory.

_Two people, one man, dressed in fine linens with a sword at his hip, and a woman, dressed in furs, a dagger clenched between her fingers. They walked half hunched over through a narrow cave. A stream trickled through the cavern, wetting the soles of their boots._

_"This way," the man pointed down a forked passage. "They won't find us here." Together, the pair ducked through the pass and continued their subterranean trek. They walked in silence. Barely any light penetrated the rocky ceiling above. As they went on, the light became dimmer and dimmer._

_Until they were enveloped in a blinding swirl of lights. Gasping, the couple spun around and looked around the huge domed chamber they now stood in. A waterfall churned at the back, and around them danced thousands upon thousands of winged people, each giving off their own colorful life._

_"O goddess of nature,_  
><em>O Mother of nymph,<em>  
><em>Please pass on your blessing<em>  
><em>To all those who sing.<em>  
><em>For the power of flowers resides in your tears<em>  
><em>Bless us with your radiance, and blind all our fears."<em>

_They sang with all the cheer in the world, swaying rhythmically through the air in an intricate dance. Slowly, the couple turned to one another._

_"Snow," the man whispered, smile illuminated in the fairy light._

_"Charming," the woman whispered back. They were lost in each other's eyes. In their faces were looks of the purest love. Simple and wonderful. And so, with the fairies dancing around them, their lips met._

Mary's eyes snapped open. A lifetime's worth of memories came flooding into her mind. Images, cries and screams, every emotion filled her heart to the brim. She was Snow White. Sobs racked her slender body. The queen, the curse.

Emma.

"My little girl..." she wept.

Such a simple song. A song of devotion to nature and the holiness of the forest. That was all it had took.

She remembered everything.


	6. The Doppelganger

Regina Mills sat at her desk with her legs crossed elegantly, a glass of wine held daintily in one hand. She sloshed the dark red liquid around the glass, taking in its luscious, aroma with just a hint of apple mixed in. Apples were her specialty. Her perfume was infused with apple extract, and her home baked apple pie was the only in town to surpass even Granny's. That was a great accomplishment indeed. Granny had been honing her family recipe longer than anyone could remember, and her diner got more than half its business for her pie alone. Normally her staunch professionalism wouldn't allow for the consumption of alcoholic beverages in the middle of the day, but today she'd made an exception. An irritated frown curved her lips.

Things were not right in Storybrooke. Not right at all.

During her tenure as mayor she'd been sure to stick her fingers in everything she could. Everything. Nothing happened in her town that she didn't know about. From Marco's latest auto repair job to Ruby's latest fling, by the time and hour had passed, chances were she knew about it. But now things were starting to change, all thanks to the arrival of three visitors. That alone was enough to tell her something was wrong. Storybrooke didn't get visitors. Ever. And yet here they were.

The mysterious writer who refused to give a name and spent his time riding his motorcycle around town, just watching people.

Caleb Montori the teenage vandal who'd destroyed her precious apple tree.

And Emma Swan, by far the worst of the three. The bail bondsman from Boston who'd sauntered into town one day determined to take back the child she'd give away willingly ten years ago. Or at least that was how Regina saw it. Admittedly she was a bit biased, but who could blame her? What adopted mother would just stand aside while some strange woman tried to woo away the son she'd raised, cared for and loved? Not Regina Mills, that was for certain. Spread across her desk and computer monitor were an abundance of photos. Some were black and white, others were fully colored. But all of them featured Sheriff Swan and the mayors son, walking out of Granny's diner, strolling down various streets, or sitting at that dilapidated castle that Regina had so thoughtfully had bulldozed and replaced. Each and every one filled her with rage. Rage, and jealousy.

Emma Swan was dealt with for now. The threat of a restraining order had done its job it seemed, and she hadn't been seen with Henry for days. That was good. Regina allowed herself a smile. That was one check off her list. Henry couldn't go running to her anymore, worshiping her as a hero while branding his rightful mother a villain. But the threat didn't solve all of Regina's problems, not by a long shot. What her threats couldn't help to explain was where all the change was coming from, and why each and every one of them seemed to revolve around the blond haired newcomer. David Nolan had woken up the day she visited, the pregnant girl Ashley had had her baby, and the ever so meek Mary Margaret had broken free of her shell and pursued a relationship with a married man. None of these things were normal. Time wasn't supposed to pass here in Storybrooke, something was wrong.

And Regina's gut told her it all had to do with the visitors. Mostly Emma Swan, but Caleb Montori was a problem as well. Anyone who questioned her authority openly was a problem. Just then the office door swung open to admit Mr. Gold, flanked by a tall man in a gray zip up hoodie pulled up to cover his face.

"Mayor Mills," he drawled in that way of his. "May I ask for a moment of your time, please?"

"Of course" she answered automatically, gesturing to a pair of chairs set before her desk. Inwardly she ground her teeth. He and the P words were going to be the death of her. Mr. Gold and his companion took their seats, Mr. Gold with his cane laid across his lap, his companion with thoughtfully folded hands. "Can I offer either of you a drink?" Regina asked, indicating the bottle of wine.

"No thank you," said Mr. Gold. "I'm not much for drinking these days, and my friend here isn't quite of age yet." The hoody wearing boy grumbled something inaudible. "I'm here to conduct some business Mayor Mills. Business that needs your approval. You've met mister Montori, I believe, the boy who broke your windows?"

"Yes" Regina hissed. "Yes I have. And aren't you the one who bailed him out of jail not an hour afterward?"

"I am" said Mr. Gold. "You see Mayor Mills mister Montori is a business associate of mine. We have a contract between us, and in return for a service I've provided, he's provided a good deal of information. And while that information has proven more than useful, young Montori's plans for the future may prove rather…detrimental to our mutual business interests, Madame Mayor. So, to put it shortly, I believe it may be for the best if he's taken out of the picture." Regina's eyes narrowed dangerously. Mr. Gold wanted someone taken out? While it wasn't uncharacteristic of the pawnbroker to try to find loopholes in his contracts, it was rather odd that he would resort to something quite so extreme, let alone come to the mayor for approval.

"And what mutual business interests would you be referring to?" Mr. Gold produced a folded piece of white paper.

"This is a copy of our contract. The details themselves are quite interesting, but it's the signature that you'll find most intriguing. Caleb Montori, he says, is just a pseudonym." Carefully making sure to read between the lines, you had to when handling one of Mr. Gold's deals, Regina read the contract. Upon reaching the signatures at the bottom, the wine glass slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor.

"No…" she whispered, staring at the signature beside Mr. Gold's. That couldn't be right. "He isn't-"

"He is," Mr. Gold cut her off. "Quite a rebellious streak, that one has. He put all this together just to save Sheriff Swan's life. I've nothing against the boy personally, but with him poking around town my affairs will become rather difficult to carry out. And I can certainly see why you'd want him dealt with." He clapped his companion on the shoulder. "That's why I've brought my friend here. It's mentioned in the contract that I'm permitted to recruit him. He knows young Montori quite well. Would you care to show the mayor how that is, my friend?" he asked his companion.

Nodding his approval, he lowered his hood.

Beneath it sat Caleb Montori. No, Regina stopped herself. Not Caleb Montori. The similarities were jarring, he could have been Caleb's twin, were it not for two major differences. His crescent shaped scars were on the wrong cheek, and instead of misty blue, his eyes were a vibrant shade of orange, like orbs of flame. Regina's frown was soon replaced by a devious smile. She hadn't seen one of these in a great many years.

A wraith.

"How on earth did you come by him, Mr. Gold? That's hardly something you can make in Storybrooke."

"He tells me I didn't make him myself," said Mr. Gold, twiddling his cane. "But that I ordered him made. Isn't that right, my boy?"

"It is, Mr. Gold," said the orange eyed Caleb. A grin pulled at his mouth, revealing a row of sharp, fanged teeth. Another notable difference from his counterpart was his complexion. Much paler than Caleb's, almost the color of chalk. "I was created by a friend of yours, Madame Mayor, when Caleb was just twelve. It was during that process that she gave him, and by extension me, these lovely scars." He ran a finger down his scabbed cheek. "Yes, Caleb and I go back a long, long time. We know each other quite well. After all, we're practically brothers" he indicated his face. "I'm more than happy to deal with him for you Madame Mayor."

Regina turned back to Mr. Gold.

"What is it you need of me? You have my approval of course; he needs to be dealt with at once. But we both know you would have gone ahead with or without my permission."

"Two things, Mayor Mills," Mr. Gold held up two fingers. "Firstly we need to know that when our plans do go off you'll play along. Do a bit of acting. Go with it. Don't worry; your son will not be harmed. At least not in any ways you don't want."

"Done" Regina agreed. "I'll play my part when the time comes. And secondly?"

"Something to get everyone's attention" said the orange eyed Caleb. He pulled up his shirt, revealing a pair of unsheathed swords, each as long as his forearm, strapped to his chest. "These'll do in an even fight, but I'll need something more to control the situation." Regina produced a key from one the desk drawers. She handed it over.

"Here," she said. "That will open a cabinet in the back of my garage. You'll find what you need in there."

"Very good." Mr. Gold and his companion stood up. "Nice doing business with you Mayor Mills, as always."

"Henry won't be hurt?" she blurted before they could turn to go. She needed confirmation.

"He won't," said Mr. Gold simply. "Just play your part Mayor Mills. Be there to pick up your son this afternoon. My associate here will take care of the rest."

Regina closed her eyes as the door shut behind them. She hoped she was making the right decision. It was the only decision, if this 'Caleb' as he called himself were to interfere too much, everything would go tumbling down beneath her. If it came down to it, she would cast Henry aside if she needed to. But that didn't mean she would enjoy doing it.

**LINEBREAK**

Granny's was always busy at lunchtime. It seemed to Emma that everyone must have their lunch break at the same time, so between noon and three, the diner was absolutely packed with patrons. By the time she took her seat up at the bar, the lunching hour was already in its downward swing, later than her usual. The paperwork for the Montori kid had taken way longer than she expected. Factor in the paperwork she'd had to do for Leroy's latest release, and it had eaten up most of her lunch time.

"Be with you in a minute Sheriff," said Ruby as she whizzed carrying tray of over half a dozen plates. "We're real busy today."

"Take your time, Ruby" she told her.

Sighing, Emma closed her eyes. It had been weird the last couple of days without Henry constantly chattering in her ear. She didn't see him during the school day, but on almost any given day they'd meet at the castle as soon as the dismissal bell rang. Today wouldn't be one of those days. The castle was gone, and they couldn't see each other. Yep, she missed him. She was even starting to miss the constant talk of fairy tales. Tiring as the kids imagination could be, there was a certain kind of charm to it. Sighing again, she turned in her seat to look around the diner. Maybe some of Storybrooke's other charming residents would help her get her mind off him.

Archie sat at a table chatting with Marco, the auto mechanic. His glasses sat next to his teacup, and the umbrella he always carried was leaned against his chair. Marco's brow was stained with oil, and a dirty rag hung from his back pocket. Jiminy Cricket and Geppetto as henry would call them. Ashley moved about the tables with Ruby filling orders, occasionally drifting back to the booth where little Alexandra sat in her high chair, shaking a plastic rattle. Emma couldn't help but smile. Looking at those two she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had she kept Henry. It couldn't have happened, she knew, a recently arrested eighteen year old fresh out of the foster system was hardly capable of raising a baby. But still she wondered.

At the very back of the restaurant sat the writer, clicking away at his typewriter. Across from him sat Caleb Montori, rambling. Him Emma watched closely. Something about that kid was off. Sure, he'd pissed the hell out of Regina, something Emma had to respect him for, but there was just this weird sort of… familiarity about him that she couldn't shake. It took a few minutes, but eventually the scar faced vandal said something that got the writers attention, because he stopped typing, looked up at him, then put the typewriter up in its case before following Caleb out of the diner. Emma shook her head. Weirdo's, those two.

"Mind if I sit here," she turned to see David Nolan carrying a plate and a glass of beer, indicating the empty stool beside her. Emma shrugged.

"I guess not." Nodding gratefully, he settled into the seat. It took him nearly an entire minute to notice Emma's glare. David sighed.

"You don't like me very much, do you Sheriff?" Emma shook her head.

"Nope."

"Mary Margaret, right?"

"Yep." David's shoulders slumped. He sipped his beverage.

"I won't hurt her, sheriff."

"You already have," Emma snapped. "You went back to your wife, and now apparently you've changed your mind. She told me about you two, you know." Her glare intensified. "Maybe next time you change your mind she'll get the message and give up."

"I care about her, Sheriff," David tried to say.

"That's what they all say. Trust me; I've heard that one before. Just know, that when you do hurt her, I'm kicking your ass back into that coma." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Please, Sheriff" he pleaded. "At least hear my case."

"You've got about thirty second" she didn't really even want to hear that much. Nevertheless, David began.

"When I first left my wife I did it because when I'm around Mary it feels….I don't know, right. I still feel that way. Whenever she's around, it doesn't feel like I'm reading from a script, like I'm not trying to be someone I'm not."

"Yet you changed your mind," Emma cut in. Her protective side was determined to crush whatever explanation he could give. Both because she wanted to protect Mary, and because she absolutely hated scumbags like this. She'd met her share of them in her day. If she hadn't Henry wouldn't exist.

"Yeah" David conceded. "Yeah, I did, and I know now that I shouldn't have. It's just that, it felt like the moral thing to do, you know. When I looked at Kathryn, I saw a woman who was just so grateful to have her husband back. And even though I didn't feel like I was the man she said I was, taking that from her just felt…wrong. I thought that maybe if I stayed with her I'd start remembering, but I never did." He looked up from his beer, meeting Emma's eyes. "I know you don't trust me Sheriff, and I don't blame you, but I've made the first step towards earning that trust." By the quirk of her eyebrows, you could tell Emma wasn't impressed.

"How is that exactly?" David took a breath.

"I left Kathryn this morning. Quit my job at the animal shelter. Wanted to make a fresh start. If I can't be David I may as well see who I really am, you know? My stuff's at Granny's I'm gonna call Mary when she gets off work." His face grew determined. "I want to make this work, Emma. Even if you don't trust me not to hurt Mary, will you at least let me try?"

Emma honestly didn't know how to respond to that. On the one hand, he was a man, and would likely end up hurting Mary no matter his intentions. On the other hand, she'd seen that look in Mary's eyes when they saw each other. She'd felt that feeling once too. It had been wrong, but would she really have denied herself of it if she could? Well, not now anyway, knowing that that was how Henry'd came to be. But still…

"Here," she said, shoving something small and metal into his grasp.

"What's this?" he asked, turning it over in his hands.

"Your new badge, deputy." David gaped at her. Emma shrugged. "Hey you need a new job anyway, right? And besides, this way I can keep an eye on you, make sure you don't go running off to anymore bridges in the dead of night." She smirked. "Remember though, one slip up, and it's back to sleep you go. Got that, deputy?"

"Gotcha, Sheriff," he grinned, pinning the badge to his breast pocket. Emma folded her arms contentedly. It was as good an idea as any. At least this way if he broke her heart she could both fire him _and _beat his ass into the ground. Any snide comment she could have made regarding kicking his ass was cut short by her ringing cellphone. What she heard on the other end turned her blood to ice.

There was an armed hostage situation, at Henry's school.

**LINEBREAK**

Snow White had never cried so much in her entire life. In a single moment a lifetimes worth of memories came rushing back, stacking on top of a whole separate life she'd been living for the past twenty eight years. Twenty eight years, she thought, dumbstruck with horror. Her stepmothers curse had been a more than viable threat, but never had she imagined. Her life as a teacher had been a good one on the surface. She'd always enjoyed the company of children, and teaching them came as second nature. Teaching had brought her nothing but joy. But then there were those countless night she'd spent alone weeping into her pillow, mourning the loss of someone she couldn't ever remember. Everyone she'd ever known had suffered from the curse.

James had been a coma patient, married to Midas' daughter.

Geppetto was childless once again, with Pinocchio nowhere to be found.

Thomas and Ella had been torn apart, the latter cursed to spend more than two decades pregnant with a baby she'd accidentally signed away to a madman.

Granny and Red barely spoke.

Hansel and Gretel had been homeless, missing the father they loved with all their being.

They'd all suffered from the curse. Until Emma came. That was when everything had started to change. Thomas and Ella had found each other again and had their baby. James had woken up, Hansel and Gretel had found their home, all thanks to Emma.

Emma…Just thinking her name made the tears some rushing back.

Her little baby girl had spent her life alone with no family, no friends, no one to care for her. And as a result she'd aged into a hardened, bounty hunting cynic, unwilling to let anyone in. She'd been forced to wander the world alone, and to give upper her son as she herself had been given up, so that she'd have the best chance possible. It hadn't been much of a choice, deciding between enslavement under the curse or lonely exile outside of it. All because of the curse. Snow choked out another sob. The queen would pay for this. All of it.

Off to the side Henry was watching with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open.

"You remember…" he whispered in awe. "She remembers! YES!" he raised a hand for a high five. All Arienna could do was ram her shoulder against his palm like a mini sized linebacker.

Snow looked up at her student. Henry, her grandson. She'd missed so much. She and James had a grandson, and they hadn't been there during his mother's pregnancy, or at his birth to support her. They'd missed so much, and yet here Henry was, the one who had brought Emma the Storybrooke, the one who had started it all.

"Oh Henry" she opened her arms. "Come here Henry."

He came flying into her embrace, burying his face in her shoulder. Arienna hovered awkwardly off to one side. She wasn't sure what to say.

"You remember! You remembe!r" Henry breathed over and over again. "I was right!" Snow laughed through her tears.

"Yes, you were right, Henry. You were right. You brought Emma back to us. Thank you... so much."

They held each other for a long time, Snow's tears staining the back of Henry's uniform shirt. There was so much she had missed. So much she wanted to say to him. Her tears continued to fall. But for now, a hug would do. Suddenly, the boy pulled away.

"What do I call you now? I mean, I've always called you Miss Blanchard, but you're my grandma." He giggled. "You look too young for grandma." Snow giggled too. She hadn't even thought about that. To her, she'd only been a mother for what felt like a few moments. She was barely ready to be a mother, let alone a grandmother. She thought about it a moment.

"Call me Nan. That's what I called my grandmother growing up.

"Nan," he repeated, testing it out. His smile grew even larger. "I like it!" he kissed her cheek in a very grandson-like way. "We've got a ton to tell you Nan. There's this guy Caleb who's helping us, he's from the fu-"

Before he could finish his sentence the classroom door banged open. In stepped Caleb, brandishing a large assault rifle. A twisted, malicious grin curled his face, teeth glinting. Large orange eyes like a pair of jack-o lanterns.

"Sorry to interrupt such a warm reunion, but would you kindly step into the gymnasium before I blow your brains out? The rest of the school's waiting. We have a lot to discuss, Miss White. So glad to see your memory's returning. Oh and be a doll and bottle that fairy would you? Don't want her fluttering about freely do we?"

**LINEBREAK**

"What is it you're showing me again?" the writer asked for perhaps the fifteenth time. His typewriter case was fasted securely over his shoulder, and his hands tugged at the hems of his pockets with barely contained curiosity. The Once Upon a Time book was packed in tightly with the typewriter. Its new carrier had no intention of losing it.

"You'll see soon enough, my friend" said Caleb. He'd told the writer that he had something that could inspire a masterpiece in ever the blandest of authors. And that was true enough. The friend he'd arranged to meet just outside of town did quite a lot of inspiring in his day. Those who travelled with him always went on to do great things, to change the world and make it a better place. Or they ended up dead, the chances were about fifty fifty.

They passed through a stand of hardy pine trees, and stepped over a brook that babbled through the thin stretch of forest on Storybrooke's Eastern boundary line. Caleb found himself whistling a jaunty marching tune, his mind at rest for the first time in ages. His plans were going quite well. Mr. Gold had accepted the deal. He'd had to, of course. In the future he had already signed it, and a future signature was just as binding as a present day one in the pawnbrokers eyes. But that wasn't the point.

The point was that he'd made a deal with the devil, and for the time being it seemed that he was actually winning. He'd taken the young Henry under his wing, awakened the princess of the fairies, and seeded the means by which to awaken Snow White. If things proceeded according to plan, then within a week more than a dozen carefully selected fairy tale characters would have their memories returned. They had to be chosen carefully. Too much of the curse's power chipped away at once and the whole thing would come tumbling down on top of them.

There was only one real obstacle that Caleb could see, and it was one he really didn't want to think about.

The wraith, orange eyed and grinning. A dark reflection of Caleb's own face. It was stated directly in the contract that Mr. Gold would be free to recruit him once he emerged from the old timeline. Caleb had had to put that in there, he had to give Mr. Gold some sort of edge of the dastardly imp would have never agreed in the first place.

Still, the wraith might not have come through yet. The last time he and Caleb had crossed sword he'd been torn apart pretty badly. Both arms severed at the elbows, a leg at the thigh, and a pair of daggers lodged in his abdomen. To any other creature those would be fatal injuries, but wraiths were particularly hard things to kill. They always regenerated and healed themselves no matter how grave the damage done to them. The only surefire way to kill one was to kill the person it had been made from, been made to look alike. But Caleb wasn't ready to die yet.

When the time came he would be more than willing to end it all if it meant that destroying that monstrosity. But the time hadn't come yet. If Emma were to survive her destiny, he had to be there to answer both of Mr. Golds favors. Hopefully, those wouldn't be too bad themselves. Knowing Gold however, that was doubtful.

Caleb checked his watch. Right on time. His friend would be there any moment, and the writer would be sent on his way. The book would be sent where it needed to go, right into the arms of Mary Margaret twenty eight years ago. However, just as things tended to happen when he got complacent, things started to go wrong.

_Longtooth_, the red-black eyed wolf projected into his mind the image of a wolf with an incredibly pair of front canines, reminiscent of a sword. _Come, Cub in danger. Orange eyed two legs wearing your skin has him at place for young two legs. Has cold two legs as well._ This message was conveyed with a series of images. Two legs were what wolves referred to humans as. Cub meant Henry, and was accompanied with a snippet of his face. Orange eyes was the wraith, and was said to be'wearing his skin' because of their strong resemblance.

Wolves didn't call snow snow, they just called it cold. Cold white. Snow White. Place for young humans...the school.

Caleb's heart sank. Just when everything was going so well, the wraith arrived. And now he had Henry and Snow at the school. This was bad. Very, very bad. Except perhaps for Caleb's girlfriend, who'd been dead for the last two years, no one knew him better than the wraith. They were two of a kind, reflections of each other, yin and yang. He had to go help. Before everything he'd worked for crumbled away.

"I'm afraid I have to leave you now Mr. Grimmnesh" he told to writer. That wasn't his proper last name. He was the last living son of the house of Grimm, a family of prophets gifted with the ability to see into the world of fairy tales. "Urgent business has come up. You'll be fine on your own though, it's not far."

"But what am I looking for?" the writer asked heatedly. "You haven't even told me what it is your showing me." Caleb pointed eastward out of the forest, toward the solitary road that led out of town.

"Just keep going straight this way. Wait 'til you find the blue police box next to a big oak tree. A friend of mine's waiting for you there. Calls himself the Doctor. A bit mad, but he's a wonderful treat. Wears a tweed jacket, bow-tie, you can't miss him. Trust me when I say that the time's you'll spend with him will do more than inspire you, Mr. Grimmnesh. Now I must be off. have a good day."

With that he turned and bolted back toward Storybrooke. He ran like a wolf, one with the land beneath his feet. The enhanced senses of a wolf prickled into being. His eyesight sharpened, he could hear the rustling of trampled leaves on the ground, he could smell the heavy scent of pollutants in the air mixed with the musk of human beings. This was disappointing. He'd been looking forward to seeing the Doctor. Those had been good times, travelling the universe.

But thoughts of those times were quickly replaced by thoughts of the task at hand. A fight was coming, and if he knew the wraith, and he did, then whatever was going on was likely to hurt more than just Caleb and Henry, but Snow White, and more importantly, Emma.

Emma Swan would not die. That was what he had sworn upon traveling back in time. Emma Swan would live through achieving her destiny, even if it meant cutting his own short.

**LINEBREAK**

The tires of the patrol car shrieked with friction as Emma slammed down on the brakes. The car ground to a halt against the curb.

The Kevlar vest felt heavy against Emma's chest, standard issue Sheriff's rifle shaking in her hands. Henry was in danger. Around the school was gathered a crowd of students, teachers, parents and concerned citizens. None stood closer to the school than the sidewalk, leaving the lush green lawn open and free of occupants.

David, also in a Kevlar vest, was staring worriedly toward the school. Emma was starting to wish she hadn't hired him so quickly. Not because he couldn't handle himself, but because she didn't know if she could trust him with a weapon. Not that she really had a choice now. Were this an eighties cop drama he'd be the one to say something witty to lighten the intention. Instead, he asked. "Are you ready?"

"No" she said shakily. "Let's go." Together they stepped out of the car, and were greeted by a mob of people, all flinging frightened questions at them, desperate to be told the situation was under control.

"Please remain calm," she tried to urge them, failing to hide the tremor from her own voice. "Everything's under control."

"Sheriff Swan!" called a shrill voice, dividing the crowd down the middle and allowing the Sheriff and her deputy to pass. At the edge of the lawn Regina waited for them. Her hands were shaking, and her face was red with tears.

"Thank God you're here" she sounded out of breath. She'd been crying. "It's Henry class hold up in the gym. It's that vandal you arrested the other morning, with an assault weapon." She choked back another sob. "He's made demands over the intercom. You're to go in alone with one gun...one gun and no vest to negotiate." Big, fat tears dribbled down her chin. Emma was amazed. She never expected to see the Mayor like this. Genuinely hurt and scared for the life of their son. Internally, Emma felt about the same, but years on the street had taught her to suppress outward emotions.

"Please," Regina cried, taking a step closer. "Please just bring him back. You can see him all you want, just please, bring him back." Putting on her brave face, Emma nodded. She could stand in awe of Regina's shocking ability to express human emotions later. Right now she had work to do, with a lot less than she thought she would have.

"I will," she said firmly. She was trying to reassure herself just as much as Regina. Unfastening her vest she handed it to David along with the rifle. A pistol was the better choice. Easier to carry or conceal, and she was far more familiar with it than the rifle's bulky length. She check the clip. Full. A raspy breath escaped her lips. Nothing could ever have prepared her for something like this. A single kidnapping she could probably handle, but an entire fourth grade class held hostage at gun point? Bounty hunting was nothing like this.

"Good luck Sheriff" David whispered, knuckles white on the rifle stock.

"Thanks," she deadpanned back.

Determination flaring, she stepped onto the lawn.

"So glad you've decided to cooperate, Sheriff Swan" Caleb Montori's voice boomed from the intercom system, slimy and venomous sounding. "Step inside. We've a lot to talk about, the two of us."

The walk across the lawn felt incredibly long to Emma. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, her fingers twitched nervously on the pistols grip. With that same sense of nervousness, prickly and painful, she entered the school and followed the signs to the gymnasium.

The school was old, as old as the town itself, and so the gym floors had never been redone. Aging, yellowed wood covered the stretch of about a hundred and fifty feet, with a basketball hoop at either end. There was another door on the opposite side of the room, cast iron, like the one Emma stood in. Fold out metal bleachers lined the walls, and it was here that Caleb sat with his victims.

Twenty two fourth graders sat side by side, wrists and ankles secured with jump ropes, mouths covered with strips of duct tape. They were all unconscious. Probably drugged. Mary Margaret and Henry sat on the floor, tied back to back. Above them stood Caleb himself, torn t-shirt and all, in his arms a semi-automatic assault rifle. Mary's eyes widened at the sight of her roommate in the door, but she didn't say anything. Smart girl.

"Ah" Caleb said, noticing Emma. He turned and spread his arms wide, as if presenting something wonderful and awe inspiring. "The Princess arrives at long last. Come to save her mother and the young prince," he threw a dramatic hand inn Henry and Mary's direction. "How adventurous of you."

"Cut it out with the fairy tales kid," Emma snapped. Her gut feeling had been right all along. This kid was batshit insane. His following of her and Henry had gone too far, and now he'd snapped. "What is it you want?"

"First off, slide that gun over here" he gestured with his first two fingers. "You won't be needed it." To prove his point, he nudged Henry's head with the rifle barrel. The ten year old flinched sharply. Emma winced. Though she couldn't see Henry's face, she knew he must be scared stiff. Setting the pistol on the ground, she kicked it over. Caleb picked it up and stuffed it behind his belt. "Very good," he said. "Now, step inside. No need to be so distant. We may as well get chummy, we're going to be waiting here for a bit anyway."

"Waiting?" Emma questioned. "Waiting for what?"

"For our last guest of course," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle filled with writhing color. "Would like a look at our fairy friend here? She's quite lively for one so young. Fairy magic doesn't come in fully until at least their hundredth year."

"I'll pass," Emma replied through gritted teeth. Bottles of paint were supposed to be fairies now? This guy was beyond insane. Caleb chuckled.

"Well, it seems the stories about you are true Emma Swan. You don't believe in anything do you? Magic from the world of your birth, and you scoff at it like it doesn't exist." He clicked his tongue menacingly. "And to think of all the wonderful titles they gave you back in my timeline. Princess of the Dawn, the Chosen One, the Savior, Dawnbringer, all given to a woman who doesn't even believe. You really have changed since last we met, Emma Swan. It's a pity my masters plans call for other things, otherwise I would have liked to get to know you a bit better. After all, we're practically family."

Pacing over to the bleachers he picked up what appeared to be a sword, scabbard covered in fine jewels. Casually, he approached Emma with it.

"Before my friend gets here, would you mind doing me a favor? My sword seems to be stuck, could you get it out for me?" He offered her the hilt, and seeing no other option, Emma reached for it.

"SHADE!" the other gym doors banged open, revealing another Caleb. Except his scars were on the other cheek, and his eyes were cyan blue rather than orange. This one was panting heavily, body coated in perspiration. "Stop right there, Shade! Don't take it Emma!" He whirled around, looking in all directions before setting on Mary and Henry tied together in the center of the room. "It's a wraith, Snow! I'm the real one." He took another look around. "Where's Arienna?"

"In the bottle" Mary squeaked. "He's got it."

"Finally you're here," said the orange eyed Caleb said, the one who the other had called Shade. "Almost though he wasn't coming at all. But then again, that's your son for you, Emma Swan, just as reckless and bullheaded as you are. He's got almost as many titles as you do, Prophet of the Swan, the Wolf King, the One who found her, founder of the revolution." He was just babbling now, all of it was nonsense of course.

"I only have one son you sick bastards" Emma hissed through her teeth. Neither of the Caleb's had heard her.

"You haven't told them?" Shade asked his twin. "How disappointing. That's just like you to do that, keep those you love out of the loop. Oh well, they'll find out sooner or later." Both of them charged. Shade, the one with the orange eyes, tossed the assault rifle aside and ripped two extra swords from beneath his shirt. The one with the jeweled hilt fell to the ground, and in the blink of an eye it was gone. Shade tossed Caleb one of the swords, and the two of them began an elaborate dance of death. Steel glinted and flashed in the light as the pair of them clashed blades, slashing stabbing and parrying at unbelievable speeds.

"Just like the good ol' days isn't Hen old boy?" Shade called over the clanging metal. "You, me, and the heat of battle! Ah, it's glorious!" Caleb just grunted in return, slamming his blade a third time against his opponents block.

Emma watched all this from the sidelines, baffled by it all. Crazy twins, that was it. Falling to her knees, she crawled beneath the fighting towards the forgotten assault rifle. Idiot had dropped it in favor of a sword. Just as she reached for it, Shade twisted his wrist, locking he and Caleb's blades. He whipped around, one hand still holding the lock in place, drawing the gun with the free one. He pointed it directly at Emma's face.

"No you don't Miss Swan," he chastised. "Can't have any of that now can we?"

"You can't hurt her Shade," Caleb said darkly. "It's in Gold's contract. His goons can't hurt her."

"You're right. It is in the contract," barely moving, he broke the locked swords apart, letting them fall to the ground. He raised his free hand, and a swarm of black particles, like buzzing, living shadows, flew to his palm, manifesting a piece of carefully folded paper. A copy of the contract. Shade glanced over it's contents. "I can't hurt her. But I'm perfectly able to a point a gun at her. I'm even allowed to pull the trigger, because I know you'll do this."

BAM! BAM! BAM! The handgun went off three times in succession. Emma blinked. All in the same moment the gun had went off, Shade had disappeared, the colorful bottle fell to the ground, shattering on impact and Caleb had launched himself in front of the oncoming attack. He lay sprawled before her, three holes leaking blood from his torso. Emma stared. Why had he done that. Her eyes were immediately drawn away from the injured teen to a streak of glowing dust that hurtled past her. It swirled around Mary and Henry's bonds, freeing them. The streak slowed, transforming into a tiny winged girl. The fairy, Mary, and Henry, sprinted to Caleb's side.

"Caleb!" Henry howled. His face was devoid of color, but his eyes were as full of life as ever. "Caleb are you okay?"

"Caleb…" Caleb gurgled, eyes beginning to glaze over.

"Arienna, can you help him?" Snow asked. She looked over his wounds with the expertise of someone who'd dealt with injuries on the battlefield. "These are bad."

"I…I can try" the fairy squeaked. "I…I've never done a human before." Hovering down to Caleb's chest, she ran her hands, surrounding by glowing dust, around the edges of the wounds. Emma just watched all of this. What was going on?

"I'll be o-okay…mom" he whispered. "I'll…be okay."

"Mom!" Henry questioned. "How is Emma you're mom?" His mouth fell open. "Are you my brother? My brother from the future?" Caleb laughed, or laughed as well as he could.

"Nah, kid. Haven't you figured it out yet? The scars are a big change…but don't you recognize your own face? Arienna…" he turned his head to the fairy on his chest. "I'll have to go to prison now…someone has to take the blame for this mess…prepare a Kemigree spell for later. You'll want to see what's in my memories…my hand drawn storybook won't be enough… and from the looks of it I won't be talking outloud for a little while…"

And with that, the nineteen year old let unconsciousness take him. Slowly, Emma reached for the contract that lay beside him. She looked at the signatures.

_Rumplestilskin _

_Henry Swan._

**Okay guys, here we are again with a double length chapter. I know it's a lot to read, but I hope you enjoy it. So now we know who Caleb is. For those wondering how the hell he got like this, don't worry, I'll be answering a lot of those questions next time. We'll learn more about fairies, and more about the nature of the fairy tale universe. For the Doctor Who fan's wondering if he'll make an actual appearance, I don't know yet. He'll certainly be referenced again, Caleb travelled with him for a time, but I don't know beyond that. And the reason this isn't in the crossover section is because the Who parts of it aren't central to the main plot, and, because the way I see it, Doctor Who is designed so that it could crossover with pretty much everything. In my mind, the Doctor exists in all fictional universes to some extent. **


	7. The Forest

When Caleb opened his eyes, he was naked. The wounds in his chest no longer hurt, and great mounds of fluffy white clouds billowed around him. He was dreaming. Well, sort of, as he would say. Were this a dream, he would be completely in control. The fabric of a dream's reality is controlled by the dreamer, and here he was not the dreamer, but a guest. Closing his eyes, he pictured himself wearing what he ought to be. That much he could make happen here. In less than an instant, his body was cloaked in a finely crafted suit of armor. A blue tunic fastened beneath his belt, and painted on the burnished chest plating was the image of a pure white swan. A sword hung at his hip, and at his throat was the golden necklace he always wore.

Admittedly he wasn't very good at manipulating dream realms. He was fae-blooded, so he had some affinity for magic, but where his real talents laid were with the sword. The sword, and his feet. When one talked to wolves, one also ran like the wolves. Looking down, he could see the entirety of a vast kingdom spread out beneath him. Enormous green forests, expansive plains rolling their way across the hilltops, a glittering sea, like a canvas wet with paint. And there, just beyond the forest's end on the cusp of the sea stood a castle, black and menacing. An almost purplish aura hung about it, an aura of darkness. Of evil.

This was the land of fairy tales as it was now. An empty land devoid of life. The many who once frolicked in this world lay imprisoned in another, hopes and dreams chained in place by the evil queen's curse. It was fitting that the two of them would meet here. This was where Caleb had spent his adolescence, waging war against the forces of his adopted mother and spreading word that his birth mother, the Savior, had arrived at last. And this was where it had all ended. The Last battle had taken place here. Images of that terrible day still stained Caleb's memory. There had been much rejoicing that day. And even more grieving.

He turned.

"Welcome Mr. Swan. Welcome" drawled Rumpelstiltskin. He sat in one of two straight-backed armchairs with gilded arms. Between them sat a small table, a chessboard set up across it. The magician turned pawnbroker was garbed in blood red layered with black. Tween his fingers he held silvery dagger inscribed with his name. An anchor to his power as the Dark One. Against the side of the chair leaned the sword with the jeweled scabbard. Dawnfang.

"Hello, Stitskin" Caleb replied. He sat down. "Clever plan you and Shade just pulled off. Tried to have me offed, almost worked too.

"Me?" his voice was laced with feigned innocence. "Heavens me dear boy, you and I share a common goal. Why would I do such a thing?" They did have a common goal, that was true enough. Why they pursued said goal however, couldn't be more different.

"Because without me the timeline goes on as it would go as it did before, and you get what you want. The curse still breaks. You know that, you had the vision yourself. Emma breaks the curse. No matter what I do that doesn't change. Leave me incapacitated in a hospital bed and make the whole town think I'm a gun toting maniac and I'm as good as out of the picture. Clever of Shade to fire at Emma. Knew I'd take the hit for her." he picked up one of the white pawns and moved it forward two squares. Game on. "Sorry to tell you this Stiltskin, but a few gunshot wounds aren't gonna keep me out of this forever. I've already started changing things."

"Indeed you have" Rumpelstiltskin agreed. "But can you really blame me for trying? Admit it boy, you'd do the same if you could." He picked up the sword and lay it flat across his palms. "Quite ingenious this sword here. Dwarven made, if I'm not mistaken. And magically bound to a single individual. Miss Swan, correct? No matter how I've tried, I just can't get it open. Well done boy. You set all the enchantments properly" he moved one of his own pawns forward. Caleb nodded.

"I'll be getting it back soon enough. You'll find I've thought this game through quite well. I don't plan on losing because of one minor setback."

"No, no of course not. I'd be disappointed if you went down without providing a proper challenge." His pale gold yes shifted to Caleb's necklace. "That's a fairy symbol, isn't it? It goes with your name, Cale-Eb Mon-Tree, Faith Without End. Tell me, how far does your faith in your mother go? Can it weather the storm you know is coming? Your other opponent will be stepping into the ring now. Knowing her majesty, she's in a fit of rage trying to figure out what happened today. The curse is weakening. People are starting to remember. You're playing a dangerous game."

Caleb moved his knight out from behind his pawns.

"My faith goes as far as it needs to. Of all the things I believe in, I believe in her most of all. Always have. Always will." Rumpelstiltskin arched his fingers complacently.

"Are you willing to stake everything on that fate? Would you risk costing your younger self his happy ending? You and the fairy princess were always close. Are you willing to her and your young self part in order succeed?" Caleb slammed a bishop down on the board. The pieces rattled dangerously. Forging that contract had required providing 'Stiltskin with information about the future. Including personal information. He wished he could have left that out, but without the incentive, Stiltskin would have never accepted the deal.

"If necessary" he replied calmly. "I'll do what I have to, and leave the rest to Emma. After all, ultimately it all relies on what she does. Doesn't it?

"It does" Rumpelstiltskin agreed. "Be careful though, boy. Leave too much up to fate, and you'll grow to become a man like me. No one wants that."

The clouds swirled around them in a tempest of wind. From behind the scenes they'd pull the strings, and the real battles would slowly begin. Minds calculating their next plans of attack, their celestial chess match went on. In the end it was all up to Emma. But for now, their games laid the field in preparation.

* * *

><p>Emma threw her head back, letting the last precious drops of beer pour down her throat. Bottle empty, she tossed it aside, shattering it against the rocky ground. She hadn't drank any alcohol in months. It tasted funny and dry on her tongue.<p>

She sat slumped on the rocky outcropping where Henry's castle once stood, staring out at the New England sea, moonlight sparkling on its surface. Salt stung at her nose, and the breaking waves of high tide lapped at the soles of her boots. There were going to get soaked that way. Emma didn't care.

Her mind was a dull haze. She couldn't think. How could she process it all?

In the aftermath of the hostage situation she'd been forced to arrest Caleb despite his innocence. Shade had just disappeared, and no one apart from she Mary and Henry knew his shadowy twin even existed. Now the scarred gunshot victim lay unconscious in the hospital, behind the same glass doors David Nolan had slept within during his coma, handcuffed to his cot, with the new deputy standing guard. Unarmed, of course. Emma didn't really want him with a gun. She'd wanted someone to do paperwork for her, not a liability.

This upset Henry to no end.

"He didn't do anything! He's innocent! He's ME! How can you do that?" the boy had shouted as Emma cuffed Caleb's hands behind his back. Emma didn't reply. Her eyes stared off into nothingness. She wouldn't look at Mary Margaret. She couldn't. Never in the same way.

"He'll be alright Henry" Snow tried to sooth her student. Her eyes were fixed on Emma, pain clear in them as noiseless tears fell down her face. Her daughter, her beautiful baby girl wouldn't look at her. "Listen to me Henry," she told him firmly, turning away from Emma and taking the boy by the shoulders. "You have to be quiet about this. No one but us knows there were two of them. We'll talk to him later, I promise. But for now you have to stay quiet. Okay?" Henry nodded meekly. He looked at Emma, who by now had moved away from Caleb and began untaping the captive childrens mouthes.

"Why haven't you said anything to Snow?" he asked his mother. "She's your mom! You should be hugging her or something!" That was how it was supposed to happen. Every Disney movie ever made said so. Families were supposed to have tear filled reunions, filled hugs and proclamations of love. Emma didn't answer. Nor did she acknowledge he'd said anything. She just continued down the line of fourth graders freeing them of their bonds.

Snow felt her tears thicken.

"Emma-" she began.

"Wrap his wounds" Emma cut her off sharply, not looking up from her task. "Use his shirt. Wrap it as best you can. Henry, go outside and tell everyone we're alright."

"But-" he tried to say, but the sheriff wasn't budging.

"Go. Now" she barked. Head hanging low, Henry did as he was told.

The fairy girl called Arienna had done well in healing Caleb's wounds. She hadn't closed them completely, but he would live. With barely a word to Henry she rushed out of the building intent on following Caleb's orders. Now the tiny girl was scouring Storybrooke's flowerbeds for the components of something called 'Kemigree'. Emma didn't listen to her explination though. Her senses weren't working properly. The weight of the situation had crushed her psyche to it's limit, and she had no idea how to react to any of this.

After that things went by in a blur. Paramedics rushed Caleb off to the hospital. The freed students were reunited with their parents, and horde after horde of reporters descended on Emma, desparate to get her comments on the situation. She didn't have much to say. There wasn't much she could say. Her tongue wouldn't work properly. At this point Regina arrived with a public thanks and a hug of gratiude for the photographers to capture, tears still shining in her eyes.

Regina told Emma she was free to see Henry again, gave her last comments to the reporters, then sheperded Henry to her car. To Henry's credit, he did a good job pretending to be happy about going home with her. He hugged her back said I love you and all the other standard actions of a newly released hostage. Were they anywhere private with him he'd no doubt be gushing over Caleb's identity. Awesome, he would have called it.

When all the hubbub died down and the newsman and well wishers began to trickle away, Emma and Snow were left alone outside their appartment.

"Emma" Snow said. "Please" she reached out to touch her. The blonde drew back sharply, showing her first signs of life in ages.

"Don't," she said coldly. "Just don't." She walked away, leaving Snow standing alone at their door.

As far as the town was concerned, Emma was a hero. She, as was her duty as sheriff, had strode determinedly into dangers grasp, and shot the vile cretin who dared threaten Storybrooke's children. It was like the fire fiasco all over again.

Emma didn't feel like a hero. She felt sick to her stomach. Nothing made any sense at all.

Fairies, Snow White, magic, time travelling, Henry from the future. All these things cluttered her mind like an unkempt dresser drawer. This had to be some kind of joke.

How the hell could she believe that Mary Margaret, her best friend, was actually Snow White, a fairy tale character, as well as her mother? How the hell was she supposed to believe that her hellish childhood in the system had not been the result of negligent parents who'd abandoned her on the side of the highway, but by loving parents who'd sent her away to escape a dark curse, hoping that she'd one day return for them?

It was all a bunch of crap

And yet all the pieces fit. There was proof. A living, breathing fairy had befriended her son.

Henry had been right all along.

What she, Regina and Archie had labelled as delusions were all true. She snapped open another beer, downing half in one gulp. What was she supposed to do now? Go running in tears to the family who loved her after all? Go live happily ever after in a castle by the sea and be blissful for the rest of her days?

Crap like that just didn't happen. Fairy tale or not.

She couldn't just accept that Mary Margaret, a women not even three months her senior, was her mother. Even if she did, what would happen then? Angrily, she hurled her beer out into the water where it hit with a satisfying plunk. Thirst not sated she reached for the sixpack beside her and opened another beer. The cold, rich smelling liquid was ambrosia to mouth. Even as a rebellious young woman she hadn't paticularly liked the taste of alcohol. Not only that, but alcohol impaired judgement skills.

She hated feeling herself lose control. A bounty hunter couldn't afford that kind of slip up. But now the beer had its intended effect. It calmed her down. Each sip fogged her mind a little bit more. The foggier the better. A strangled laugh rasped from her throat.

She couldn't decide which was more unnerving. The fact that Henry's theory was right, or the fact that she wanted him to be right. Never until this point had she even considered her could be right. His stories were just that, stories, fictional plots about fictional people in a fictional world. Essentially, lies told to entertain children.

But that didn't mean Henry's delusions hadn't been appealing. During her days in Storybrooke she'd had vague ideas of kidnapping him. It would have been so easy. Henry would go willingly. However these ideas had been tossed quickly. She'd been to jail before, and didn't much feel like visiting again.

If Regina was really an evil witch then Emma would be justified in taking Henry away, rescuing him from certain doom at his adopted mothers hand.

If Snow White and Prince Charming were really her parents, then her entire existence of drifting from place to place, bounty hunting and living the life of a reclusive, introverted loner had been based on a misunderstanding. Her tortuous years in the foster system couldn't be blamed on parents who'd abandoned her. She had parents. Real, loving parents who only wanted what was best for her. Just like she'd wanted for Henry

Turned out her best chance wasn't much. Would life under the curse really be all that bad in comparison? The curse destroyed happily endings, but Emma didn't believe in those. Maybe under the curse she would have had at least one parent. That wouldn't have been bad at all. Mary Margaret was a born to be a mother. Having her as a mother, single or married, would have been more than enough for Emma.

Again she laughed, positively cackling into her drink. She must be crazy, thinking thoughts like that. Henry was one thing, he was a ten year old kid. But she was an adult. Wishing fairy tales were true wouldn't make them so. That was a lesson she'd learned a long time ago. Someone will always stab you in the back. Trust no one. Least of all yourself.

A car door shutting cut her musings short.

Emma closed her eyes. She knew who it was. Her footsteps were quiet on the grass. Her breathing was erratic, stressed. Emma didn't turn.

"What do you want Mary?"

It took her a moment to answer. Tears were building behind her eyes She honestly didn't know what to say. How could you rehearse for a converstation like this?

"Can't...can't we talk about this?"

"Talk about what, Mary?" Emma snapped almost condescendingly "The fact that my crazy son is right and fairy tales are real? The fact that I'm going insane? That, Mary?"

Snow swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn't have expected a better reaction than this. Really, it was better than she expected. Knowing Emma's circumstances it was a miracle she hadn't left town already.

"No," she said. "The fact that I'm you're mother." Emma whipped around to face her. Her hair was unkempt and messy, her eyes wild and accusing. "And please...it's Snow." Asking to be called mother was going too far, as much as she wanted to ask.

Their staring match continued for what felt like hours. Finally, Emma's eyes relaxed, and she turned back to face the sea. Cautiously Snow sat down beside her. Despite the lack of actual talking it was already the most painful conversation she'd ever had. Every fiber of her long to reach and touch her, to run a loving hand through her golden blonde locks, to pull her into an embrace that said everything would be okay.

But she didn't. Because that would be a lie, wouldn't it? Nothing could ever make any of this okay. No magic could earn them back the twenty eight years they'd lost, or undo the suffering her stepmother had wrought. More than anything, she wished Charming were with her now.

They were together again. Even in these stunted false lives they'd been forced to live they'd been drawn to each other. But James' still hadn't truly returned. He was still David Nolan the amnesiac. And accoring to Henry''s hasty summary of Caleb's palns, he had to stay that way. For now, at least. When her thoughts drifted to Caleb, Snow felt her heart break yet again.

Caleb was Henry. Aged and twisted by nine years of who knows what. Why had he come back in time? What would be so terrible that he'd return to a time where the curse still held, and the people of their world were still trapped in this one? She forced such thoughts away. They would only upset her. They could wait.

Kemigree would bring their answers later. Right now, all that mattered was Emma.

Time wore on for what felt like days. Each second of silence was drawn out and endless. Finally, Emma spoke.

"Tell me...tell me this is all a joke, Mare. If not a joke, then a really, really bad hangover. This..." her voice caught. Moisture gathered in her eyes. "This can't be real...It can't be. It's insane."

"I'm sorry, Emma" Snow said in a hushed tone. Tentatively, she placed a gentle hand on Emma's shoulder. She flinched sharply, but she didn't shrug her off. That was a good sign. Baby steps. "I'm so, so sorry. About all of this."

"Don't apologize," Emma whispered. "Say it. Either tell me I'm going insane, or tell me it's all real. Pick one." Her voice was of venomous ice, hard as steel, remorseless. Snow couldn't blame her. There was no other way to react to something like this.

"It's...it's all true, Emma. I'm so, so sorry." Emma snorted, almost cruelly. Snow felt her heart breaking.

"Figures," Emma muttered. She got to her feet and took a few paces across the rocks. They were jagged and uneven, and didn't really lead anywhere, but that didn't matter. She was walking to move, not to get somewhere.

"We did what we had to, Emma" said Snow, the pleading obvious in her voice. Again, she wanted to cry. That wasn't like her. She was Snow White, princess turned rogue who'd survived living alone in the enchanted forest for the better part of a year. While empathetic, crying wasn't something she did often, and when she did, not openly. Yet Emma had her weeping like a willow. She too got up and took the few steps necessary to close the distance between them. "We had to Emma. The queen's curse was coming. We'd meant the wardrobe to hold me while I was pregnant with you, but-but you came. And then...it could only hold one, baby. It had to be you. We had to keep you safe..."

"I know all that," Emma said, glancing back at her over her shoulder. This time her tone was softer, more sympathetic. "Henry's told me the story more than once. And I'm sorry too. That's not what I meant." She sighed. "What figures is that I don't know how to deal with this. Yeah, I'm probably just crazy, but craziness is something I thought I could deal with. Just another broken axle on the train wreck that is my life. No, what I can't deal with is the idea that you're my mother." She turned to face Snow completely. Moonlight shined across her face, illuminating sad, angelic features, and her father's pale blue eyes. "Don't get me wrong...you're probably the best mother material possible. You're just...you're my friend Mare, Snow...probably the first real friend I've had in years. How-how am I supposed to look at you and think 'mom' or anything other than Mary? You're...you're Mary!"

She shook her head.

"Dear God, I really am insane aren't I? None of this makes any sense. It's not possible. You're _my_ age, you can't be my mother but...I'm sorry" she said again at the increasingly pained expression on Snow's face. "God, what do I do?"

"Well," Snow began cautiously. She was taking a risk here. Chances were she was being too forward, going to fast for either of them to emotionally bear. But it was a risk she had to take. "We could try to get to know each other again. See how it goes, try to make this work." She stepped in front of her daughter, meeting her gaze with desperate eyes.

"All of this is crazy and terrible and beyond anything I could've feared." Tears leaked anew from her eyes. Salty trails marring her pixyish features. "My husband doesn't know me. Everything we've done together, all that we've been through, he can't remember any of it. Everyone I've ever loved is doomed to an eternity of misery, and my stepmother rules over us all! She raised your son as her own...my grandson...my grandson is a time traveller from the future. Who knows what the queen could have done to him in all that time...those scars."

She broke off, sobs consuming her words. Wiping tears from her face, she began again, very quietly.

"Emma, I know it's all too much to bear, I know. Please, just don't shut me out. Not now... I know you're not ready to have a mother yet. I'm not sure I'm ready to be one either. But even if I can't be your mother yet at least let me stay your friend...I love you, Emma. Let me help."

Emma didn't say anything. Her stare was haunting.

All else tried, Snow offered her hand. It was a final, desperate plea. Let me help.

Her eyes slammed shut. This wasn't a rejection she could face head on. Not from her daughter. She waited, and waited. The rejection never came. Instead, slender, warm fingers entwined themselves with hers.

"Okay" Emma said. "We can try."

Snow's face could've outshone the sun. It was a start. It wouldn't be easy. Not by a longshot. Snow could see Emma's body stiffen at her touch, recoil at her glances. But it was a start.

Hand in hand, they walked along the rocky outcropping that outlined the shore. Midnight had long since passed, and the night had entered it's phase of soft gray twilight. Soon they came to the edge of the forest. There wasn't really a part of Storybrooke that _wasn't _bordered on at least one side by it. Even the more urban areas had a peppering of trees sprouting across them.

Roads ran in and out of the woods all the time in this town, but instead of following the roads Snow led them down a narrow dirt path that had long ago been forgotten by men. It hadn't been maintained, and foliage grew in thickly on both sides.

The woods had always been a place of fondness for Snow White. Fond memories, fond smells, fond animal friends who brought her gifts of flowers and danced to the tune of her singing voice.

"It hasn't changed much" she told Emma quietly as they passed under a massive spiderweb spun between two trees, silken thread sparkling where the moonlight touched it. "From before, I mean. The trees are almost the same, except...less real somehow." She ran a finger down an oak trunk as she passed. The bark felt softer somehow, less crisp.

Emma didn't respond.

"We met here you know" Snow continued. She thought it best that she just keep talking. Fill the silence with something, even if that something felt awkward and contrived on her lips. Emma wouldn't open up for her straight away, so instead, she would open up to her. "Charming and I." She didn't use the word father. It was too soon for that.

"David," said Emma. "I don't trust him."

"Trust him?" Snow asked. Her face quirked upward like her brows. "You hired him as a deputy! You gave him a gun!'Why would you do that if you didn't trust him?"

"I didn't hire him to give him authority. I hired him so I could watch him. I don't care who he really is inside, Snow. He hurts you, I wanna know about it. That and I hate doing paperwork. Be nice to have someone to shark that off on." Both of them couldn't help but laugh.

"Henry and I read through your story" Emma said after a while. All remnants of laughter were gone. She spoke slowly, and her emotions wwere nigh impossible to gage. "You robbed him. Never saw you as that kind of girl. Life with dwarves wasn't glamorous enough?" The wry joke was meant to lighten the tension. Charming did that too when he was unsure of what to say. Snow smiled.

"Hadn't met them at that point. That was a few months later. Grumpy and I met in prison." Emma's brows rose a teeny bit. She was trying.

"You? Prison? How'd that happen?"

"It's complicated. Charming and I hit it off pretty well, more than well, actually. But he was arranged to be married to Abigail, Midas' daughter. The king didn't want me interfering, so off to the dungeon I went."

"Harsh" Emma snorted. Snow allowed herself a laugh.

"King George was. All he cared about was furthering his ambitions for the kingdom, even if it meant ruining countless lives along the way. He was a lot like my step mother, now that I think about it."

The path opened up into a long stretch of vibrant green grass that lay beneath open sky. Stars twinkled overhead. Trees grew farther apart here. Flowers dotted the ground in bunches of illustrious petals. Snow held a hand to her heart.

"With all this here, with all this, and you, how didn't I remember sooner? It all feels so obvious now. Like a dream I'd forgotten."

"How did you remember?" Emma asked. It was a question that had niggled at her for most of the day. "Did Henry figure it out? Or was it that fairy that he hangs out with now?"

"A bit of both. He, they, sang me a song."

"A song?" Snow nodded.

"The Song of Life. A hymn of the fairy people sung to honor their Goddess Riasha. We heard it in a cave when we...when we first kissed. Caleb told them to do that. I must have told him about it in...in his time." The phrase 'his time' sounded wrong, and she stumbled over it. Time travel was supposed to be impossible, even in the world of fairy tales and magic. "He must have guessed it would make me remember. Maye it will make James remember too...When the time comes."

"When the time comes?" Emma repeated. In her dazed, semi consciousness after the hostage situation, she hadn't listened to Henry repeat his future self's plans.

"I don't understand it completely, but Caleb told Henry that if we break the curse too quickly or incorrectly, something goes wrong. What that means, I don't know. But until we're certain, we can't risk trying to make anyone else remember."

Emma eyes closed wearily. She pinched the bridge of her nose, the corners of her lips twitching upward ever so slightly.

"Caleb," she said the name aloud. "That kid really is Henry, isn't he? There always was something familiar about him. I couldn't place it. Those eyes...the way he looked at me...it's...how? What happened? Why is he here?" Snow shook her head mournfully, hand moving to Emma's shoulder.

"I don't know. He sent Arienna, the fairy" she added at her daughter's confused look. "To prepare a Kemigree ritual. Sort of a fairy mind ritual. With that, he can show us what happened. Until then we just have to wait."

Silence fell yet again. An owl's distant hooting carried through the forest.

"I'm sorry Snow" Emma said. "This can't be what you wanted in a reunion, but...I can't, I just can't. Not yet." The woman who was her best friend, and who was also her mother, pulled her into a gentle embrace. She returned it as best she could.

"That's okay" Snow told her. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart. I'll wait as long it takes." With that, she pressed a kiss to her forehead. A sign of love, of friendship. For several whole minutes they stood their, hugging. Part of Emma wanted to call it awkward. Another part wanted to call it...right.


	8. The Letter

Rosalinda's walk to work took longer than usual that morning. The strange letter was burning a hole in her pocket. She'd read over it more than half a dozen times yet it still didn't make any sense. What was more, the letter scared her. Of course it did. Caleb Montori, the stranger in town who'd held up the elementary school had sent it.

Dull pains speckled across the soles of her feet. The rubber of her shoes was starting to wear thin. There were holes in a few places, and she could feel the hard concrete of the sidewalk through her socks. They'd have to last at least another month. Buying new ones wasn't on the table right now.

She shivered against the cool morning breeze. Her clothes were much too thin for this for this weather. Her uniform dress was of thin blue material, soft to the touch, but virtually useless against the cold. Winter would be tough this year. With the economy the way it was, it'd be hard just to keep the heat on.

Reaching a hand in her pocket she felt for the few crumpled bills and mixed coins that were her only lunch money. It would have to be a light lunch today. An apple, maybe half a sandwich. Something that would leave her with money left over. Rent was due tomorrow. Today was payday. Hospital maids didn't get paid much, but combined with her paycheck from Ms. Harver, she'd have just enough to get by.

Apart from Mr. Gold, she was easily the wealthiest person in town. Cleaning her house was no walk in the park. It was an old house, with lots of winding halls and dark corners. During warmer months Ms. Harver had her venture out onto the house's battlements high above the ground to clean the stone gargoyles perched there. Many of them held an uncanny resemblance to their owner, their chins were pointed, and their faces were strangely reptilian looking in the right light.

Approaching the next intersection, she slowed to a stop. Main street was the busiest road in town. It was morning rush hour, and cars jammed the four way stoplight from all directions. Rosalinda felt herself go stiff. This was the worst part of her morning commute. Across the street stood the bus stop, a glass overhang that sheltered a painted bench. A group of teenagers were huddled beneath it. Several eyes looked up at her, flickering with recognition. Her gaze fell to the ground. She brushed her tangled black hair into her face. Though it was all but unavoidable, she didn't want to be seen.

She had vague memories of a time when she too rode the school bus every day. A time before her aunts fell ill to disease and frailty. Before she had had to drop out and work two jobs just to keep them afloat. They were very vague memories. A few blurred images of an old life that she didn't feel like she'd lived at all. There was no point in fantasizing about such things. Maid experience would never be a substitute for the high school diploma she'd never had. There weren't near enough hours in the day for her to have anything even resembling a social life. Friends were something she just couldn't have.

However, she did allow herself a single indulgence. Carefully pulling back her curtain of hair, she chanced a look at the boy standing apart from the rest. He stood with a smartly dressed woman carrying a tanned leather briefcase. That was his interpreter. Jake, unlike anyone else in town, was deaf. Amongst his family he spoke sign language, but at school, he was as isolated as could be.

That was how Rosalinda had noticed him at first. Though he went to school, he was just as alone as she was. Every morning for as long as she could remember she'd looked over at him, noticed his quirks and habits, like how he fingered his sleeves when he was nervous, or how his eyelids fluttered when he was upset. She felt almost creepy watching him like that. Stalker really wasn't something she wanted on her resume.

But when Jake's deep brown eyes occasionally came to rest on her, and they did from time to time, she felt the strangest sense of familiarity. When their eyes met it was like she was looking at a close friend. It was like they knew each other, even when they'd never spoken a word. They probably never would speak a word either. Were she to approach him, the only way they'd be able to communicate was through his interpreter, and that would be way too embarrassing. She was far too shy for that.

Before long the big yellow bus wheeled up to the stop. The students boarded, and they were off. Gone.

Rosalinda sighed. That always went by too fast. Sure, it could be considered creepy that she watched the local deaf boy, but it was the only time when she felt at home. Ironically, when she was a good three miles away from her house.

The rest of the walk to school was much less exciting. As always people were buzzing around Granny's diner for the breakfast hour, gossiping about the previous day's events.

A school held up at gunpoint was the most notable thing to happen in Storybrooke since…ever. Ask anyone and they would tell you that in their memory, things had always been the same. Nothing ever changed. No one ever visited. Well, except for Sheriff Swan, the towns new hero. And Caleb Montori, the villain she'd shot. Hearing his name made Rosalinda cringe. He'd written the letter in her pocket.

The cryptic ramblings inked on the page were his, the musings of a psychotic madman. It had even mentioned Henry Mills, the mayors kid, one of his victims. Yet for some reason she couldn't get rid of it. Something about what it said just clicked in her mind. It didn't make any sense, but each time she read it over, she felt something in the back of her brain just stop as if held back by some huge, immovable barricade. Whatever the letter meant, it would have to wait.

She arrived in the hospital lobby with three minutes to spare. Saying hello to the receptionist, Brenda, she clocked in behind the counter and began her shift.

Her feet felt much better slapping against the cool linoleum tiled hallways than the sidewalk. Lucky for her the hospital was heated. Probably the best part of her job. Pushing the heavy metal cart that held the various cleaning supplies was harder than it looked. Its wheels were always getting caught in between the tiles, and every thirty feet or so a bottle of cleaner would fall off and force her to retrieve it.

About twenty minutes into her shift Rosalinda pushed the cart into the western wing. Here the room around the beds that lined the walls was much more open, allowing for visitors and well-wishers to visit comfortably. At the far end of the wing was the glass room with an open view out on the front of the hospital. David Nolan, the coma patient who'd been released a few months back, and the recently hired sheriff's deputy, sat in a folding chair outside the door. He was surprisingly awake for the early hour. His posture was tense, and he looked very alert. The room held a single bed, where lay a single patient with a variety of beeping machines reading his various vital signs. He was handcuffed to the bed.

Rosalinda felt her heart sink.

The guy who'd sent her a weird, stalker-ish letter was right there! Had she even a speck of logic she'd turn right then and leave. But logic wasn't in the forefront of her mind at the moment. Part of her, the morbidly curious part, wanted to get closer and take a look. The letter, though full of nonsense and weird drawings, was oddly compelling. It made her…think, feel…something. Something like déjà vu. Like a dream, faded and blurred away with time.

"Good morning, Rosa." She turned to see Mary Margaret Blanchard, the school teacher who volunteered on a regular basis enter with the sheriff, Emma Swan. The blonde's face was a blank slate free of emotion. Her eyes were hard and icy.

"Morning, Mary." Suddenly, Rosa remembered the previous day. "Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

"Are you alright?" another voice asked at almost exactly the same time. David Nolan, the deputy, had moved from his chair and approached them, expression full of worry.

"I'm fine, Rosa" Mary told her. She embraced David and kissed him cheek tenderly. "I'm fine, David. Thank you."

"Thank God," David breathed into her hair. "I was so, so scared." They stood there for a moment, just holding each other like that. Rosa felt herself blushing. Turning, she went back to sweeping beneath the beds. She didn't want to intrude.

After breaking apart David looked to Emma.

"You're switching me out then?" Emma nodded.

"Yeah. Figured you spent all night here I may as well get you some relief. Got some paperwork I need filled out on your desk but other than that you're off 'till tonight." She looked between the deputy and her roommate. "You two go off anywhere together keep it PG, I got enough on my plate right now." With that she strode to the glass door and took a seat in the chair.

"She alright?" David asked Mary in a hushed tone.

"She'll be fine" said Mary. "She just had a rough night. Give her time." With a final farewell to Rosa, the pair left the hospital hand in hand. Rosa stared after them. Mary was in a relationship now? That was new. Didn't get a lot of new in Storybrooke. She felt good for Mary. A girl like that should have been able to find someone ages ago. Good for her, she thought. At least someone in town can find someone. As she knelt down to use the dust pan, she felt the letter fold over in her pocket.

Maybe she should hand it over to the sheriff. It was written by someone in her custody after all. Could it be considered evidence? Again that niggling feeling the letter gave her returned. She knew then that she had to read it again. Glancing up, she looked towards the glass room where Caleb Montori lay. Well, she had to clean in there at some point anyway. May as well indulge her curiosity and have a look at him. _Then _she would do the logical thing and hand the letter over. God, I'm being so stupid, she thought.

"Sheriff Swan?" she said, standing up.

"Yeah?" the sheriff responded. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she'd been staring off into the middle distance, deep in thought.

"I need to sweep in there," she pointed to the glass room. "Is that alright?"

The sheriff seemed to consider it for a moment

"Yeah" she said, standing up. "I gotta go in with you though. Not supposed to leave anyone alone with this guy." She picked up the key ring hung over the arm of her chair and unlocked the door. "Come on, let's make this quick."

Bringing the broom and dustpan with her Rosa followed the sheriff into the room. It was slightly cooler than the rest of the hospital. The heater didn't quite reach this far into the building, and the windows covering more than half the walls didn't help much temperature-wise. The beeping of the machines was constant and rhythmic. To Emma it sounded like the techno music played at one of those new age dance clubs. More than a few of her bail jumpers had tried to hide in one of those. The hectic movement of the dance floor and the harsh strobe lights made them a great place to hide. Not that hiding ever worked for Emma's targets.

Rosa however didn't notice the cold or the machines. When her eyes fell on Caleb's battered, scarred form, she gasped, the broom slipping from her fingers and clattering to the floor.

Caleb's upper torso was wrapped in thick white gauze, pulled tight to keep pressure over his wounds. Here and there a dot of scarlet bled through the fabric. The bleeding had been terrible. His lower body was draped in a blanket, but the rest of him, his stomach, and his arms were clearly visible, and they were like something out of a slasher flick. Scars crisscrossed his arms, white lines carved into his flesh by years of battling monsters and the evil queen's armies. His stomach was even worse.

Black covered the area around his navel. From that central area branched jagged dark lines that wrapped their way around his ribcage and down onto his lower back. It looked sticky and goopy, like it was some foreign material clinging to his skin. But upon closer observation you could tell the blackness took root deep within his skin.

Between the scars and the black was inked an elaborate tattoo. It wasn't very old, you could tell by the vibrant colors he'd received it less than a year ago. A cobra, massive and green, was uncoiling itself across his skin.

None of these things were what Rosa noticed though. Nor were they what startled her. Her eyes were drawn instantly to the twin scars that curved across his right cheek.

"Are you alright?" Emma asked. Rosa didn't hear her.

She wrenched the letter from her pocket and folded it open. The words and the pictures permeated her mind. She felt herself begin to shake. Sweat beaded above her brow, and within moments she was panting, her dressed stained wet with perspiration. Most of the letter was nonsense she couldn't make sense of. But the picture, and a certain paragraph garnered all of her attention.

_Any of this makin' any sense to ya, Rosa? Ever pricked your fingers while spinning the wheel? Hurts a lot more than you'd think. 'Specially after the dragon shows up. Her claws are a bitch on the flesh, almost as bad as her breath. Anything yet, Rora? Ever seen the borealis, the northern lights? Their **Aurora** is beautiful. Okay, this one'll definitely work. The scars the seal on my fate, the scars the seal on his fate. Any of this starts workin' go find the mayors kid. He can explain what's going on. Don't worry, you're not crazy. Hopefully by tomorrow you'll know that for sure, and you can give me a hand. Got a bunch of work for us to do. The queen and the devil got things wound up tight for us. Gotta undo it. Still nothing? Well, then just look down, the trinity of red blue and green surrounds the silent prince. The witch's eyes take a gander. Sure hope it works. _

Rosalinda's eyes moved down the paper to the drawings.

Three woman, one dressed in red, one in green, and the other blue, were sketched standing around a boy lying prone on the ground. Beneath this were sketched two eyes, huge, with bright violet irises surrounded by yellow instead of white. Rosa's hands contorted inward, crumpling the paper. Her mind went blank. Her vision blurred, and what she'd later describe as a shakily filmed movie filled her head. It was all she saw, and all she heard.

_She was standing on a barren field burned free of all plant life. Pitch black clouds swirled in the sky, silhouetting a menacing castle built atop a jagged mountaintop in the distance. The gargantuan form of a dragon, scaly skinned with terrible spikes running from its neck to the tip of spindly tail, circled above high in the sky. Biding her time. _

_Aurora's dress was ragged and torn, but that didn't bother her. Ten feet away he laid sprawled on the ground, surrounded by the three women who'd raised her. His sword and shield lay at his side, dinged and damaged by battle. _

"_Phillip!" she screamed. Falling to her knees she skidded to his side, taking a grimy, battle worn hand in her own. His fingers tried to move. That was how he talked. In his nearly eighteen years of life, he'd never once heard someone speak._

"'_Rora" he gasped in a strangled, inexperienced voice. It was the only word he could speak. It was but two syllables of her name, yet it meant the world to her. _

_Rivulets of blood ran from his body. The tunic that covered his chainmail was ruined beyond repair. His left shoulder was burned and charred, the bone visible under the mangled flesh. On the other shoulder two crescent shaped cuts glistened with blood. _

"_Can you help him?" she asked her caretakers desperately. Tears pooled in her eyes. He couldn't die like this. Not now. _

_Her aunts exchanged distraught looks. Around them hung shining, dusty auras, each matching the color of their clothing. They were fairies. Each of them wore a golden ring, serpents devouring their own tail. It was these that allowed them to take such size. _

"_We must,' said the aunt in red. She glanced again at the fallen prince. "'Tis his destiny. If he requires more power to achieve it, 'tis our duty to provide it for him. No matter how grave the cost." Her sisters nodded gravely. What they were about to do was forbidden by the fairy faith, the punishment for which was exile. They all knew this. Yet they also had no choice. The shape changing witch was a vile enemy to all. She had to be slain._

"_Stand back, dearie," the aunt in blue told Aurora kindly. The girl did as she was told, but not without question._

"_What are you doing?" she asked as the fairies formed a triangle around Phillip, linking hands._

"_What must be done to save him," said the green aunt. She turned to her sisters. "Can it be done with three? Magic is foreign to human veins. Too much, and he might well perish." _

"_We have to try" said the red fairy. "He needs all that we can give him. Now, sisters, begin." _

_Their auras suddenly grew bright like the stars hidden by the clouds above them. Colored lightning sparked to life between the fairies arms. It twisted and curled itself around each of them, glowing hot on their golden rings. The hats each of them wore were thrown off, and their hair broke free of their meticulously crafted braids. Their heads were thrown back, and as one the sisters screamed. _

_Dancing as would a group of serpents, the lighting arched from their joined hands and met above Phillip's body. _

_Voices nearly drowned out by the whirlwind of power conjured between them, the red fairy led them in chanting. _

"_Power divine, bound in blood  
>Power bound in body to stop the flood<br>Power ripped and torn from us by the root  
>Let this power be held in truth!"<em>

_The lightning fizzled out of existence, and in it's place a pillar of light shot upward from Phillip's body, parting the clouds in the sky and disrupting the dragons flight as power boomed outward. _

_Power drained, the three fairies collapsed. Fairies, they were no more. They were faes now. Drained of all but a spark of their magic. The golden rings had snapped free of their fingers. They were bound to human size now. In giving away their power their tiny forms had disappeared. Their bodies were weak and decrepit. Only through endless practice would they be able to regain full function of them. That was the price they'd paid for imbuing the boy with magic. _

_Phillip's wounds had begun to seal themselves shut. Black char flecked free of his shoulder. Within moments his body was free of blood, and he was sitting up, scratching the back of his head confusedly. His deep brown eyes were misted. His muscles bulged slightly beneath the skin of his arms. He was alive, alive and unhurt. _

"_Phillip!" Aurora squealed, enveloping him in a hug. Phillip flinched, an unfamiliar sensation split his temples. Though he'd never done it before, he knew what it was. He could hear. _

"'_Rora," he choked against her shoulder. _

"_He's a fae blooded now" the blue dressed aunt grumbled from the ground. "Imbued with the power of fairy magic."_

"_Go, boy!" the red aunt barked. Her voice was raspy and dry. He jumped, hearing was new to him, and each sound that prickled at his ears was strange and foreign. "Go, slay her. Magic will flow from your finger, use it!" she pointed to his sword before collapsing completely, consciousness leaving her. Phillip looked from the fae to the sword. The dragons screaming roar of battle made him cringe. He pulled away from their embrace._

"'_Rora" he said, smiling. His fingers brushed her cheek. Their lips met for a single, heated moment. They'd kissed once before, in the forest where she'd grown up. When they broke apart, they just stared at each other, basking in the others presence. It didn't last long. _

_The dragon roared again, and Phillip took up his sword. Warmth spread from his palm into the hilt. Light, orange flames danced over the swords blade. The Sword of Truth, it would come to be called in later years. He could feel the power raging through him like a river. With his free hand, he gave Aurora the sign for goodbye, and leapt to his feet. _

_Sword raised, shield held tightly to his side, he charged towards higher ground. The battle would be fierce, and the prince would come out victorious. _

Rosa screamed.

"Honey, are you alright?" Emma asked for the fifth time.

"I have to go" Rosa said breathlessly. She flung open the door and scurried from the room. "Sorry!" she called over her shoulder. The memory was still vivid in her mind. What it meant, she had no idea. Her heart was pumping wildly. She had to be alone right now. She had to think.

Emma stared after her. She shook her head. Something was always off in this town. Everyone was crazy in their own little way. She knew that definitively now. Henry's fairy tale theory had been proven true, so each and every one of Storybrooke's residents was a character straight out of European folklore. Maybe Rosa was a banshee. That certainly made sense; her windpipes were more than sufficient. Taking a few steps towards the window she took a seat in the rooms solitary chair. Her eyes went back to Caleb, his scars, the cobra tattoo.

She couldn't look away.

Though her skepticism had been proven false, part of her still questions the validity of the fairy tale curse story.

How on earth had the innocent, grinning ten year old boy she'd come to love been transformed into this disfigured teenager? That was what she questioned the most. Had she really gone _that _insane?

His tousled brown hair was exactly the same shade as his fathers. He looked a lot like Jack. He had the same hair, the same cheekbones, and a similar nose. He had her smile though, just like Henry did. The tattoo confused her. Either he was really, really into his Operation's code name, or he'd inherited her rebellious streak at some point in his adolescence. She had a tattoo on her lower back. Got it done just a few months before she fell pregnant with him. Yes, this kid had all the physical attributes of Henry. But who was he really? Was he anything like the boy she loved, or had fairy tales twisted him into something else? Was he as crazy as she'd thought he was?

Caleb's eyes fluttered open.

"Hey, Emma" he said groggily. "Great…" he yawned. "Great to see ya."

"How are you awake?" Emma asked. "Dr. Whale said you'd be out for at least a few more days."

"I heal fast" another yawn. He glanced at the door. "Who was that? Thought I heard screaming."

"You did. Cleaning girl, Rosa, just started screaming and ran out."

Caleb's brows rose tiredly.

"Rosa? Did she have a letter of some sort with her?"

"Yeah, started reading it right before she started freaking out."

"Yes!" Caleb whooped, pumping his fist painfully. "Then my plan actually worked out. She's starting to remember."

"Who is she?" Emma asked after a moment. She was still unsure about this guy. Her skepticism was lessened, not gone.

"Aurora," said Caleb. "More commonly known as Sleeping Beauty. Hopefully her memory'll be back in a day or two. Then I can move on to the next on my list." He fell silent, grinning from ear to ear. Emma found herself edging backwards in her chair. Those eyes, big and blue and shiny. They were filled with the same childlike quality as Henry's, filled with faith and unquestionable belief. Caleb's were misted, but they were still the same. He really was Henry. Those were Henry's eyes. Yet the blonde headed sheriff still wasn't sure.

"I'm glad you're here, Emma" Caleb said. "It's good to see you again. It's been way too long."

Emma didn't respond. His grin shrunk a little.

"You don't trust me" he said sadly. "You still don't believe any of this. Not really. Can't say I blame you. I know what kind of life you've had. After all that why would you believe you're a lost princess from another world, or that I'm your ten year old son from nine years in the future?"

"Can you prove it?" Emma asks almost coldly. She doesn't mean to be cold. But it's moments like this that she can't help but be skeptical. Caleb scratched his chin, pondering.

"Yeah, I think I can." It wasn't like she could ask him where the scars had come from to prove his identity. What she needed was something from their history together, something that they'd both already experienced. Caleb knew just the thing.

"Alright, you told me my father was a firefighter who died saving a family from a burning building. We both know that's a bunch of crap. My father was married man who fooled around with a seventeen year old girl. He was a first class asshole, and like I said to you back in the station, never met him, never want to."

Emma blinked.

"Didn't think I'd found out about that, did ya?" Caleb asked. "Pretty good lie you told there. I suggest you tell little me about that sooner rather than later. I don't take that very well."

"Why did you come back?" Emma said without thinking. She was starting to believe. "Why are you doing all this?"

"For you of course" he answers without hesitation. "You're my hero, mom. And I know you're not ready to be called that yet. But you will be someday. Ultimately, that's what you are to me, my mom. I don't have a lot of time to talk to you right now, cause if it's the day I think it is you're gonna get a call from the station about a break-in in just a few minutes. Mr. Gold's house got broken in to. All the detail'll have to wait for the Kemigree, tonight, if Ariena gets everything together in time. But let me tell you this. I've seen you do amazing, incredible things. I saw you break the curse, I saw you fight in the last battle, and win. That win cost just a bit too much, so that's why I'm here. To save you, Emma."

Emma couldn't answer immediately. Her throat felt dry and leathery. Was that speech rehearsed?

"Henr-"

"Caleb, please" he interjects. "Don't want things to get too confusing with two Henry's running around. And no, I didn't rehearse that speech. When you live in the world of fairy tales for a couple years you tend to get a bit melodramatic. But still, all of that was true. You can tell I'm not lying."

A rapping noise came from the window. They turned to see Arienna hovering just outside the glass. In her arms she held several bundles wrapped up in torn leaves sewn together. Emma stood and opened the window, allowing the fairy to flutter inside.

"Thanks the Gods you're here, Arienna. Did you have trouble finding anything?"

"Not really" Arienna said, landing on his outstretched palm, which was difficult to move handcuffed. "There isn't any viticus root in this world, but dandelion fluff makes a decent substitute. Am I to be the center point? I've never done that before, I'll likely end up losing control." She said all this very fast, her nerves evident.

"Nah," Caleb said. "I'm not gonna force you into anything you're not comfortable with. Besides, I need to be the center this time. It's my memories we're going into. We'll get the best quality that way." Painfully, he pulled himself into a sitting position, and leaned his head forward so his chin rest against his collarbone. "Can you make the mark?"

"I can" Arienna said.

Setting down all but one of the bundles in Caleb's palm, she fluttered behind Caleb's head. Opening the pouch, she released a pinch of yellow-gold powder which she applied liberally to the back of Caleb's neck. Using her tiny fingers, she carefully drew out a pentacle, a pentagram enclosed in a circle.

"Thank you" Caleb said, laying back down, Arienna returning to his palm. "Can you do Emma while she's here?" Arienna nodded. "Thanks. She can do Snow White herself, just give her one of the pouches."

Taking up another pouch, Arienna flew to Emma, who stood ramrod stiff, staring at the magical creature hovering before her.

"Lean your head forward, miss" Arienna told her politely, still sounding nervous. "You don't want this stuff getting in your hair."

Hesitantly, Emma leaned forward and pulled her sheet of wavy blonde hair out of the way, leaving the back of her neck exposed. Arienna quickly drew out the pentacle and wiped the excess powder back into the pouch. Emma straightened, fidgeting her shoulders. The power tickled slightly. The fairy placed a leafy pouch in her hand. It was very small, about half the size of a marble.

She'd have to be careful with that. Otherwise it would burst in her pocket. Her phone buzzed.

Activating the screen, she saw that Caleb had been right. A break in was being reported at the Gold residence.

"That'll be duty calling you," Caleb said. "Use that pouch on Snow tonight, before midnight. Any questions you have I can answer then. Kemigree makes time seem really drawn out. We'll have plenty of time. We'll have to make the most of it too. I'll be out cold for at least two days afterward."

"You're gonna fall unconscious again? You seem fine now."

"All magic has a price. Kemigree takes a lot of energy. You better get going. If you don't get there fast enough Mr. Gold may do something he'll regret. He's quite the fan of vigilante justice. You better get going too, Arienna. May as well spend the rest of the day with Henry. You two can find something to do until tonight, can't you? When the time comes I need you to draw each others marks."

Arienna nodded. A pinkish, almost purplish brush filled her opaque cheeks.

"Yes, we'll keep ourselves busy. Perhaps I'll ask him to show me more of this world. I still find it...very strange." she looked arounds at the machinery, and the lightbulbs humming in their sockets. "Until tonight, Cale-Eb Mon-Tree." Curtsying midair, she flew out the window, dust trailing behind her.

Caleb turned back to his mother. His grin returned to full size.

"It really is good to see you, Emma. I missed you. Better get going. Mr. Gold owns his own gun. He's got an itchy trigger finger."

"Right" Emma nodded, her throat tight. Feelings so overwhelmed her she was amazed she was still capable of walking a straight line. "The hospital security guard'll stand guard outside the door now. So don't...don't do any magic stuff, okay?"

He gave a little salute, made awkward by his restraints

"Aye aye Sheriff. Until tonight then."

Emma pushed through the door and strode hastily towards the exit. A break-in would be good for her right now. She needed something to keep her mind off the insanity. She needed something to keep her from breaking down completely.

**So, I'm back again. This one took awhile, actually. So, please review! Answer me honestly, cause this has been bugging me ever since I posted chapter six. I feel like I botched this story big time by bringing in Emma so soon, I feel like I'm going too fast. What do you guys think? Your opinions keep me going. Happy Reading.**


	9. The Kemigree

Later that evening, after Walter the hospital security guard, or Sleepy the dwarf, had long since fallen asleep, Caleb received another visitor. Regina's form was draped in pale moonlight, giving her an ethereal, ghostly presence. She stepped into the room without preamble. Her dark, venomous eyes fixed on Caleb, full of suspicion and loathing. Caleb straightened up in bed. He made certain to shield the back of his neck from view. The golden pentacle tingled with magic. He grinned darkly.

"Why hello there mommy dearest. How nice of you to come visit me."

"Why are you here?" Regina demanded. She wore her usual mask of absolute calmness, yet her voice shook with anger.

"Turns out bullets do a lot of damage" Caleb said, wiggling what he could of his battered body. "Thought I'd get myself fixed up."

"Why are you here?" she repeated, temper rising. A short knife glittered in her hand. It was for show, mostly. She'd read what she could of Gold's contract before it turned to dust. A standard document protection charm. Anyone who wasn't supposed to see it held it for too long, it disintegrated. All she'd had time to read was the signatures. But despite her wish to see this boy dead and gone, she couldn't kill him. If she did that, Gold wouldn't be bound by the contract anymore. And she needed him bound by something. Otherwise, he'd be completely unimpeded, and would be free to deter her own plans.

"Jumping straight to my motivation?" Caleb asked, unfazed by the knife. "No questioning my identity first? No feeble attempt to keep pretending you're just the mayor? I'm disappointed, I expected a lengthy interrogation. The movies lied to me."

"I know _who _you are" Regina snapped. "Gold showed me. Henry Swan...Faith unending...I didn't believe at first, but then I saw the wraith." Nine years of age had changed him radically, but now the resemblance was clear. He had Henry's jaw line, his smile, and his eyes, apart from the mistiness. They had the same defiant glint as their ten year old counterparts. The mistiness confused her. He was fae blooded, it seemed. But what fairy would willingly relinquish their magic, their family, and perhaps even their lives, just to imbue him with power? Time travel was troublesome business.

Even among the darkest of sorcerers, time was a form of magic not to be tampered with. The elemental magics of water, earth, fire and air, were the basic building blocks that made up every spell or charm. But time held it all together. Time could erase everything, recreate the world in the blink of an eye. Who knew what sort of secrets this boy may be hiding? She'd have to tread carefully. Again she asked. "Why are you here?"

"Because something needed changing" he answered. "Someone has to clean up the mess you've made. May as well be me."

"You'd betray me that easily?" Something almost resembling pain flashed over her expression, replaced in an instant with fiery contempt. "After all I've done for you? After I raised you? You'd cast it all aside just like that, make a deal with Gold just to spite me?"

"All you've done for me, highness?" Caleb sneered. "You raised me like I was your little pet. That was what you thought I'd be, isn't it? You assumed the curse would affect anyone within city limits. You expected me to stay a baby forever, needing you, loving you without question. But then I started growing up. I grew up in a world where only I got any older. I had no real friends, but did you do anything about it? No, you just kept me all to yourself, like a puppy, and when I asked why I was different, why the few friends I did have were suddenly two years younger than me, you slapped me. Yeah, highness, you raised me, but you did it for your sake, not mine. Don't play the loving single mother card here, I know who you really are. I've seen the things you've done."

His speech ended in a staring match, misty blue on hard iron. No visible reaction showed on the queen's face. She took a step closer, expression smug and condescending, as if speaking to someone of very low intelligence who'd just made an obvious blunder.

"What I've done?" she repeated mockingly. "My God, you're just like the rest of them, Snow and the insolent wretches she calls friends, so persistent in believing in what's 'good' and 'right'. Understand this, boy. When all has ended, when time comes to a stop and all the lands of all the realms crumble to nothingness, good and evil are just words. In the end, only power remains. I have power" purple sparks danced across her free hand, her knuckles whitened on the knifes' hilt. She lowered her face to his, leaving scarcely half a foot between them. "Might. Is. Right."

Were Caleb any other person right now he'd be trembling in fear. This was the evil queen, in whose wake monsters trembled and kingdoms crumbled. But she hadn't frightened Caleb in many years. He laughed.

"If you wanted me to be an amoral megalomaniac you probably shouldn't have made Jiminy Cricket my therapist." Another laugh. "You have power? No, highness. You may have a lot of flashy magic and armored goons at your disposal, but when it comes down to it you don't have any power at all. Rumplestiltskin designed the curse, not you. All you did was murder your father in cold blood to activate it. The curse set you up at the top in this world. Mayor, with her fingers in everyone's business. Everything that goes on in this town, you have something to do with. Everyone's in a position where they're easy to control. Snow White's a meek little school teacher. Prince Charming was a coma patient, until recently at least. The Huntsman was your lover. And you've got Belle in the psyche ward about forty feet below us. I intend to free her soon, by the way.

If today's the day I think it is you gave Rumpelstiltskin a tea cup this afternoon. Funny, in my time line you let Emma see me for thirty minutes so you could talk alone with him. There was no hostage situation to earn her back her right to see me. You use any way you can to keep in control. Gave the wraith that assault rifle, didn't you? Agreed to help Stiltskin off me? That shows who's really in control here. The wraith serves 'Stiltskin, not you. 'Stiltskin knows how the curse works, and so do I. You don't. So go ahead and make all the threats you want, highness. I'm not scared of you, 'cause in the long run, you're just a liability. A minor obstacle between me and the real enemy. Do what you want _mother,_ I'll be there to stop you. Game on, bitch."

The queen said nothing for almost an entire minute. She looked over Caleb's body again, taking in the scars and the tattoo. Idly, she wondered how many of those scars she was responsible for. Apparently this boy had waged war against her, and those who fought against her had a tendency to end up either dead or mutilated beyond recognition. Her boy wouldn't grow into this rebellious nuisance. She'd see to that. Perhaps what Henry needed was discipline. Giving him a few of those scars preemptively would set him straight. Good sons obeyed their mothers.

"Good to see you haven't lost your passion with age" she said calmly. "When you put your mind to something you always stick to it, don't you? Good speech, by the way. Must have taken you ages to memorize it all. But regardless of your little delusions, we have a game to play, don't we? No matter what you might say, I seem to hold all the cards right now. Gold has all the power? Yes, but he won't use it, and when the time is right, it will be mine. My, my, it's quite the game board you've set up between us, Henry dear. Best hope you haven't bitten off more than you can chew. Well then, let the games begin. Until next time, " she turned on her heel and stepped towards the door.

That was it, really. All that needed to be said had been said. The heroic speeches had been given, the villainous monologues recited. All that remained now was the war itself. With Caleb and Mr. Gold's pieces already pitched in battle, adding the queen's forces to the board put a whole new spin on the game. Yet there was still something Caleb felt he should say, something that was a source of great conflict between his sense of morality, and his personal desire to see justice done. The queen's hand closed on the doorknob.

"It's kind of tragic, really" Caleb called after her in a light, almost singsong voice. "The way you've gone down this road."

The queen stopped. She peered over her shoulder, looking completely uninterested. She was wearing her mask again, Caleb knew. Trying to seem like everything was under her control, as it had been for nearly three decades.

"And what, may I ask, do you mean by that?" she asked disinterestedly.

"You could be good, you know" Caleb said. "I've seen you do good before, even if it was just a little. You did good once, and you can do good again."

The queen's brows shot up.

"Are you honestly trying what I think you are? 'Redemption'? Are you really so childish as to try _that_? Rather backward tactics considering you just declared me your enemy."

"Not backwards, right" Caleb corrected. "A great man, well, a great cricket once told me that no one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes. Anyone capable of love is capable of redemption. I'm only gonna offer you this once, and admittedly part of me doesn't wanna offer it at all. It's the right thing to do, I know, but the other part of me wants to rip your throat out right here and now."

"How violent of you" the queen quipped back, silver tongue flicking out replies with ease. "Have I really garnered that much hatred from you? All I ever did to you was keep a roof over your head, feed you, clothe you. Hardly things worth butchering me over."

"You killed the girl I love" Caleb deadpanned. His eyes could have cut diamonds. "Right in front of me. That's what you did." He breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. His wrists shook in their cuffs. "Please," he started again, only the slightest amount of pleading showing through the words. "Please, before I lose my temper and take it back at least consider it. War is coming soon, and you don't have be against us when it comes. Help us! There's still time to make up for what you've done, for what you'll do. We'll welcome you back with open arms. We can forgive you. Please just...please."

In those words resonated the last shred of him that still loved her. From the time he was a small child that part of him had shrank and shrank as he slowly discovered her true nature. But even after discovering she was the evil queen and witnessing her enact countless atrocities, she still was, despite the vileness of her love, his mother. One of his mothers. A long silence fall over the room. It was soon broken by the queens shrill laughter.

"You sound just like your grandmother," she said, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. "Offering forgiveness and love when the enemies knife is at your throat. It's pathetic really. Grovelling at the feet of your betters, a cleverly disguised plea for mercy. No, I don't think I'll be taking that offer of yours. I'd much rather crush you like the insect you are. As you said, game on. "

She turned back to the door.

"Well, I've enjoyed this little talk we've had Henry" she sounded like a regular mother, talking with her child about the changes brought on by puberty. But the venom was clear in her sweet words. A viper, poised to strike. "Perhaps when you're feeling a little better we'll have another one. Good night."

Slipping from the room she slinked past the still sleeping Walter and exited the west wing. Caleb laid back heavily. He hadn't really expected her to accept mercy. Her heart was still capable of love, yes. But her heart was still black inside. Fate, it seemed, was determined to lead the queen to her destruction. Closing his eyes, Caleb concentrated on the golden pentacle adorning his neck. It felt good to have even the smallest trickle of magic back in his system. Letting that trickle spread through his system, he reached out with his mind and felt for the four others bearing pentacles.

There they were, spread out in two pairs. Emma and Snow, Henry and Arienna.

"Mithran" Caleb hissed through clenched teeth. The pentacle's magic went taut like harp strings. Bound together by the enchantment, the five minds met. And Kemigree began.

* * *

><p>Henry was sprawled over his bed back to front, his feet resting on his pillow up against the headboard, his head dangling off the edge. This position gave him a good view of his ceiling, which was covered in plastic glow-in-the dark stars that glowed green in the semi darkness of his bedroom. The pajamas he wore were old ones he hadn't worn in ages. Peter Pan one's with the lost boys playing chasing fairies from the bottom of his leggings to the sleeves of his shirt.<p>

A variety of comic books were spread out on the bed around him. Some were single issues bound in plastic sleeves and cardboard backs to keep them straight. Others were hardcover trade editions, issues bound together in larger volumes. Those were much easier to read, because it kept all the issues in chronological order. Most of them were superhero comics, Captain America, his favorite, Iron man, the Incredible Hulk, they were all there.

A series he'd gotten into recently was Fables, a story of fairy tale characters exiled to the real word by a dark and ominous force. It reminded him of his own situation, but before he'd gotten more than three issues in the queen had taken them away. Not because they were fairy tales, but because they had a lot of blood gore, and nudity in them. A parent was a parent, evil witch or not.

And while the loss of yet another mode of escapism bothered him, he still missed his book, his thoughts were occupied by other things. He scratched at the pentacle on the back of his neck. Arienna had sketched it there earlier that morning. Drawing one on her neck had been much harder. Her neck was tiny, even thinner than his little finger. Fairy magic was fascinating, he'd discovered. Every spare moment throughout the day he'd whispered fairy related questions into his pocket. He'd only gotten answers a handful of time, but that was hardly Arienna's fault. Because of the hostage situation the day before school had been called off to let the victims, and their parents, calm down. So Henry had spent most of the day either having an extended session with Archie, that had taken up most of the morning, or messing around at the playground while the queen and the other parents watched anxiously from the nearby benches.

The queen had been awfully affectionate that day, smothering him with hugs, kisses, constantly asking if he was okay. It was a welcome change to the authoritarian coldness she usually displayed, but it still seemed...off. She'd spent almost the entire day with him, until she'd went to the police station for some reason. Apparently, Emma's heroism had earned her the right to see him again. Not that he'd seen her yet. She was coming over for dinner the next day, the towns media would be all over that, the town hero dining with the mayor. But still, he missed her. A few days apart had been harder than he expected.

He ran his fingers over his wrist. It tingled hauntingly. Surprisingly enough, having a gun held to his head hadn't terrified him nearly as much as it should of. It had petrified him, of course. But what really got to him, really niggled at his fears and imprinted itself on his nightmares was the orange eyed Caleb. The wraith, a dark copy, as Arienna had described it. She didn't know much about them, wraiths were the creations of dark magicians, but what she did know was more than enough to scare him silly. A dark copy, an equal and opposite to its counterpart, an unstoppable monster that would only truly die if it's counterpart died. And this wraith's counterpart was Caleb. And Caleb was Henry from the future.

That was probably the coolest thing Henry had ever heard. Himself from the future? That was awesome! In fact the sheer awesomeness of it was nearly enough to make him forget the wraith all together. Almost. Thank god this 'Kemigree' Caleb had told Arienna to prepare was coming soon. He had at least a thousand questions to ask like, 'Where did you get the scars?' 'How can you talk to wolves?' and, 'Can you show me how to use a sword?'. Swords were his favorite fantasy weapon. All his favorite characters used a sword at some point. Swords were the weapons of heroes, champions, and had a grace about them that weapons like guns lacked. He thought using a sword would be really cool.

Lifting his head slightly, he glanced over at his dresser. His jacket was slung over the top of it, forming a makeshift curtain.

"Any of that stuff fit, Arienna?" The fairy's tiny head popped out from behind the curtain.

" A few things. None of it's really...my sort of clothing though." Strewn about the dresser and the surrounding floor was Henry's entire action figure collection, each and every one stripped of it's garments. Arienna's single woolen dress was getting dirty and worn, and since Henry lacked the barbie doll clothes a girl would have, the miniature superhero and soldier outfits would have to do. She tossed a stand of garments out from behind the curtain. The captain america suit wouldn't work, it was far too baggy. Neither would the Batman costume. She liked the cape, but she hated black. Fairies loved vibrant colors, reds and yellows and oranges. Black just wouldn't work.

"Have you tried the Phoenix one?" Henry asked.

"Phoenix?" she asked, stepping out from behind the curtain, her body wrapped in Batman's cape. Her wings showed clearly beneath the fabric, two bulging lumps that twitched every few seconds. "Which is that?" She was of course unfamiliar with superheroes. Comics, unfortunately, were not part of the fairy tale world.

"Yeah" Henry said. He rolled over and tip toed to the dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer. Pushing aside mounds of folded shorts he pulled out a dusty cardboard box with a plastic viewing screen in the front. It read 'Jean Grey-White Phoenix of the Crown' on the front "Can't believe I forgot about this one." Carefully opening the box, he lifted out the action figure, a red headed woman with a curvaceous body. Her costume was pure white with gold gloves and ribbons at the wrists, a gold belt, and a golden bird emblem emblazoned on the chest.

"Phoenix," Henry whispered as he removed the costume. "The most powerful X-men ever. Here, try it on" he offer it to her between his thumb and index finger. Tentatively, Arienna took the garment and weighed it in her hands, examining it.

"Interesting" she muttered. "It's similar to the robes of our priestesses, except that it lacks the outer robe. Yes, I think this will do nicely, thank you." She turned and moved back into the curtain. "I have to ask though," she said over her shoulder. "Why do you have all these miniature automatons lying about? They're fascinating, especially the clothing. I've never seen anything like them." Henry shrugged.

"I collect 'em. They're fun to play with, you know, like pretend with. Don't fairies ever play pretend?"

"Oh yes. My friends and I love to reenact scenes from the texts of the Goddess. Usually we'll do that in the morning before the sun rises, then we play Ukodebed."

"Ukodebed?" Henry questioned curiously. He sat back down in front of his bed, twiddling his thumbs idly. "What's that?"

"A game, similar to the 'tag' children of this world play. Except that it involves a magical ball, and quite a lot of flying." She stuck her head out from behind the curtain, smiling. "Perhaps when this curse is broken I can show you. Humans are capable of flying if they're dowsed in enough fairy dust." Her face became stony and nervous. Slowly, she stepped out into the open. "Am I presentable?"

Henry gasped. The golden ribbons cascaded wonderfully at her wrists. Her raven hair framed her ovular face perfectly, and though the suit didn't conform perfectly to her body, she was no less than a goddess fallen to earth. Henry found himself blushing furiously. Arienna looked at her feet, crestfallen.

"You do not like it," she said sadly, turning to reenter her makeshift dressing room.

"No, no, no!" Henry stuttered trying to call her back. He glanced nervously at the bedroom door, which he'd padlocked shut just in case. The queen's was still snoring strong, but he couldn't be too careful. It would be disastrous if she were to walk in during the Kemigree. "No," he said again, more quietly this time. Arienna turned back hopefully. Henry grinned. "You look awesome."

Arienna smiled. Her cheeks glowed pink. She tugged at the costumes fabric. It was surprisingly comfortable, especially considering it was made for a plastic doll.

"Thank you, Henry."

They both looked away grinning, trying vainly to hide the coloring of their faces. Henry knew girls weren't supposed to be pretty, they were girls! But Arienna did look good. Maybe she was the exception that proved the rule. Having friends who were girls was confusing. Hopefully that would get easier with time.

Suddenly, an electrifying pulse shot down their necks. Henry yelped. Arienna squeaked. The golden pentacles shimmered to life, flashing gold light on the walls like a pair of strobe lights.

"It's starting" Arienna grunted, lying down on the dresser. "Lay back. The pain will pass quickly." Henry obeyed at once, lowering himself onto his back. His eyes slammed shut.

Almost at once the erratic sensations were gone, soon replaced by a strange humming that emanated from all around him, like the distant chirps of a thousand crickets.

His eyes opened, and another awe filled gasp escaped his lips.

He stood on a familiar stretch of grass by the sea. Silvery waves broke on the rocky shore. And there, where it had once stood in the waking world, was his castle, rotted wood and all. Untold joy filled his heart. This was his playground just as he remembered it. Beyond the playground and a hundred feet or so worth of ocean the rest of Storybrooke and the bordering forest was shrouded in mist, blurred and unfocused like it wasn't really there at all. Arienna hovered just above his shoulder, taking in the scenery. She wasn't quite as impressed. She'd done this before, though she hadn't seen the first castle before.

Off to the right he heard a series of loud popping noises. Emma and Snow appeared out of nowhere. Emma in her trademark red jacket, Snow wearing what she usually dressed in for school. Pentacles hone brightly on their necks.

"Emma! Nan!" he cried. He ran to them and nuzzled his face in his mother's stomach. She ruffled his hair affectionately. Her face was weary and lined. She quirked a brow.

"Nan?"

"Uh huh," Henry said as he moved to give Snow a hug. "It's what I call her now. Can't just call her Miss Blackhard anymore, can I? She's my grandma!" Snow chuckled, kissing the top of his head.

"I can get used to that."

"Right" Emma said, taking a few steps toward the castle. She looked around suspiciously. "So this is the Kemigree you've told me about, Snow. Any idea what we do now?

"Not exactly" Snow answer, moving to stand beside her daughter. "I've only ever done this once before, and that was years ago. Caleb should be here, I assumed he'd be the central point in all this. Is he, Arienna?" The fairy princess nodded. In this misty world of dreams the dust from her wings hung thicker in the air, creating a mound of colorful clouds that hung about her for a few seconds longer than usual.

"He is. I'm not sure where he is. He should be here."

"I'm right here!" The four of them turned to see Caleb standing atop the castle, grinning like a madman. A blue tunic covered a set of armored plates that interlinked at his shoulders and hips. A white swan covered his chest, and the pentacle on his neck shone brightest of all. A sword, long and sheathed, hung at his belt. He jumped down to the ground and spread his arms wide.

"Welcome my friends, to my mind." He jabbed a thumb at the castle. "She can't bulldoze this one. Storms can't get it either. In my mind, my fortress stands forever."

"What are you wearing?" Emma asked, arms folded. Her gaze was fixed on the swan insignia.

"Oh, this?" Caleb peered down at his body. "Just my uniform. This is what you wear when you're part of an army." He looked back up. "Guess you guys have a lot of questions, don't you. I've kept you waiting long enough." Henry's mouth opened. Caleb raised a hand to stop him.

"I'll get to your questions kid, know you got a million of 'em. One sec." He stepped forward and pulled Snow into a tight embrace. She accepted it gratefully. "Good to see you with your memory back, Nan. I've missed you." She smiled sadly into his tunic.

"You're part of an army," her eyes moved to Henry. "How did that happen?" Caleb sighed, breaking away. He paced around a few steps before speaking again.

"That's a really complicated story. A lot happened in nine years. The years that made him in to me," he made a gesture at Henry. "But before I get to that, let me humor little me. If I know him, and I do, then he wants some proof I'm really him." He lowered himself to one knee so he was at Henry's eyes level. His younger self approached eagerly. They're nearly identical eyes met.

"Your favorite movie's Finding Nemo. Pixar's great, isn't it? Love those guys. Favorite superhero, Captain America. Favorite fruit, tangerines. Least favorite fruit, apples, for obvious reasons. First crush, Gretel. Happened about a month or two ago from your perspective." The ten year old turned red as a beet. "Aww, don't be embarrassed kid. She's the first girl you ever really talked to. When the curse starts breaking she's a great friend, and you're the same age. Made her really happy to not be a seventh grader for another twenty eight years. Junior high's hard enough as it is. And, your greatest wish," he pulled Henry closer and whispered in his ear.

Henry nodded, content.

"Yup, he's me alright." His grin matched his scarred counterparts. "Wow this is awesome." Snow and Caleb chuckled. Emma wasn't as convinced. Her face was blank and stony.

"Still a bit skeptical, Emma?" Caleb asked. "That's more than understandable. I'd be worried if you trusted me that quickly. That's nothing like you at all. Well, maybe some info will help to sway you. Do you remember the day you met the writer? The one with the motorcycle?" If anything, this only confused Emma more.

"Yeah. He rolled into town just after Michael Tillman took Ava and Nicholas home. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Quite a lot, actually." Caleb said knowingly. "And you're wrong. That's when we met him," he pointed between himself and Henry. "Not when you met him. You met him on the day you were born." Four sets of perplexed eyes stared at him. "Don't know what I'm talking about, do you? That's okay. You can hardly be expected to remember that, and the writer's certainly changed a lot since then. He was the seven year old who found you on the highway." Emma couldn't speak.

"How is that possible?" Snow asked for her.

"His family are the descendants of the Brother's Grimm" Caleb answered. "They have the ability to see into our world. That's where they got the stories from, seeing them happen in their dreams. So the writer felt the wardrobe portal open, and he was drawn to Emma. He could tell she was special. All his life he aspired to be a writer, but he could hardly ever write a thing. He couldn't see into our world, because the curse meant it wasn't there to see. So, after twenty eight years, he was drawn to Storybrooke and the secrets it holds. He's the one who dug up your book, kid."

"Great!" he just _knew_ there was something strange about that guy! And now it turned out there was something strange _and _magical about him. The ten year old looked around eagerly. "Is he here too?"

"Nah, kid. I sent him off somewhere with a friend of mine. He's where he needs to be. Don't worry about the book, I remember everything in it. I can make us a new one."

"You've got me interested" Emma interjected. "Tell me more." It wasn't a request. Caleb nodded.

"I can do better than that. I can show you."

He raised his hands and the playground around them began to dissolve and blur like the surrounding town and forest. Henry oohed and ahhed at the shifting reality. The blurring swirled and contorted, reshaping as Caleb let the magic flow from the pentacle. Eyes closed, he began to speak.

"Admittedly, my plans haven't gone exactly as I'd hoped. Obviously I didn't plan on getting shot. Bullets hurt a lot more than I thought. The wraith came through to this time much quicker than expected. Nan, in case you're wondering, the reason we can't wake up Pop yet, that's what I call Charming, is because the curse is centered on the two of you. Waking you and him up too close together could cause the whole thing to collapse on top us. Like what happened in my timeline. That, and, he's too reckless. He'd want to go and lop the queens head off right away, you have more self control."

"It's being tested right now, believe me" said Snow. The few days since she'd recovered her memory had been difficult. The curse seemed to split her personality, or at least bring what she considered her greatest weaknesses to the forefront. Mary Margaret was all meekness and kindness. And while those were important parts of her personality, there was more to Snow White than love and goodness. There was also the fiery part of her. The part that wielded swords and scaled castle walls. The part that would fight back against the queen. That was the part the queen wanted suppressed.

"Believe me, Nan" Caleb grinned. "I know how much you want to hurt her for what she's done. And you'll get your chance. Now" the swirling dreamscape slowly began to solidify. "Kemigree is designed to share memories. It's meant for fairies, but it works just as well with humans. These are my memories of what happened. It all starts two years from now, from your perspective at least. That's when the curse started to break, and that's when everything went wrong."

They now stood on a street in Storybrooke. Another Emma, a memory version of her, clad in the same red leather jacket, stood leaning against her yellow bug. She stood across the street from a small building with giant red letters declaring it KTA, Korean Taekwondo Academy. A memory version of Henry exited the building wearing a white martial arts outfit; a blue belt tipped with red tied around his waist. The present version of Henry stared. He was at least two inches taller, and his hair had gotten longer and shaggier, reaching almost to his shoulders.

"Yeah," Caleb said. "You do finally get to take martial arts classes. They were a lot of fun, I remember. We had a class the morning it all started." He looked to Snow. "The morning of you and Pop's wedding, Nan. Your second wedding, as David and Mary Margaret."

**Now, I originally intended to have Caleb's memory in this chapter, but then I realized how long it was getting. I'm starting the next chapter right now, I just didn't want the chapters to be inconsistent in length. Okay, Caleb's memory is the first scene I came up with, and his backstory is what I've built this whole story around. Hope you guys like it. Please Review! Thanks Happy reading. **


	10. The Wedding

**I want to apologize to my alert people, because yesterday when I was correcting some typos in the previous chapter, I put it as a new chapter by mistake, so you guys got an alert for a chapter that wasn't really there. Sorry about that. Please review! Your responses keep me writing!**

With a wave of his hands Caleb froze the scene. The Henry in the martial arts outfit froze mid stride. The Emma leaning against the bug stopped mid-blink. Caleb turned to his younger self.

"Wanna have a look?" he asked, gesturing to the other Henry. "You've changed a bit by this point. Puberty tends to do that. Wanna see what's different?"

"Yeah!" Henry burst enthusiastically. He moved closer to his counterpart, and began walking circles around him, curious eyes taking in anything remotely different from his current self. "How old am I here?" he asked. The most overt change was his hair length. It had grown long and shaggy. He'd grown perhaps an inch and a half, and red spots dotted his face where the beginnings of acne had started popping up.

"Twelve and a half" Caleb said. "This is just a little bit more than two years on from the present. May twelfth, twenty-fourteen. The wedding day of David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard, and the day everything changed forever."

"We get married again?" Snow asked as Emma too examined her older counterpart. Her voice was quiet, almost wistful. Caleb nodded.

"Yup. In the original timeline Pop broke up with Kathryn a few weeks from now. He moves out, gets a new job, and even moves in with you and Emma for a while. And about eighteen months on, you get engaged. Guess me being here has changed more than I thought. He broke it off earlier than he did before." He grinned. "It was only a matter of time really that you two got together. Even with your memories gone, you're always drawn back to each other. It's fate. Snow White and Prince Charming. A love written in the stars."

Snow smiled. Despite the physical differences between them, Caleb and Henry were obviously the same person. They had the same child-like eyes that believed without any doubt. They had the same sense of passion, and both seemed to enjoy speeking in a heroic, grandiose fashion. They obviously belonged in the land of fairy tales. This strange, mundane world they'd grown up in just wasn't right for them.

Both of them had a sense of optimism that the cynical world of Earth wouldn't allow. Snow loved that about them, how even in the worst of situations, for example, their current one, they always had hope for the future. Even when all hope was lost. And, with every passing minutes she spent with either of them, her love for her grandson grew and grew.

"If I'm here" Emma said as she looked over her frozen counterparts' hair. "Does that mean Regina-I mean the queen" she corrected, "let me see you again. Even without the hostage thing to make me look good?" The stoniness had faded from her features, and emotion had slowly started to return. She believed now. Even if she didn't know how she was supposed to deal with it yet.

"Oh yeah" Caleb answered. "That didn't last that long. She couldn't keep us apart forever. When I start Taekwondo schueduling made it so that the queen dropped me off and you picked me up. Today" he gestured to the frozen scene. "I had to take the early class so you had time to get me before the wedding. Today was the first day I ever saw you in a dress."

Emma arched a brow. She didn't do dresses very often. And when she did, it had to be a really special occasion. She pointed to her mother.

"She managed to get me in a dress? That can't have been easy. I'm stubborn about what I wear." Caleb snorted.

"I know you are. You kinda had to wear a dress, seeing as you're the maid of honor." Emma blinked, dumfounded.

"I am?" she asked weakly.

"You're my best friend in this world, sweetheart" said Snow, squeezing her shoulder. "It makes perfect sense. I'd be proud to have you as maid of honor." Emma didn't say anything. Every few seconds she seemed to forget that Snow wasn't just her friend, but her mother. Being her maid of honor was almost surreal. She was her best friend? She'd never had a best friend before. Her high school years had been spent as a loner, looking for herself and only herself. Having friends, and the warm, unfamilar feeling they filled her with, were...nice

"Thomas, well, Sean, is the best man." Caleb added. "Part of Operation Cobra was to get the two of them to hang out again. See if any memories turned up. Didn't do much, but they hit it off pretty good. They're best friends again in no time. You done, Henry?" he asked the boy. "You can do some more looking later, but we gotta get moving if I'm gonna show you guys everything."

"Yep, we're done!" He and Arienna walked back over. "Ready." He looked up at Caleb. "When do I get as tall as you?" It was a serious question. Caleb was half a head taller than Emma, yet the twelve year old Henry had barely shot up at all in two years. Caleb chuckled.

"In a few more years. Don't worry kid, you'll get your growth spurt eventually. Remember though, size isn't everything. Well," he wrung his hands together. "If you're all ready, let's begin. Now, be ready, because it's a rather jarring change that's about to happen. I could let us watch everything like this, standing here in the scene, but I don't think i have that kind of energy. So, I'm gonna project us astraly so we can watch the scene from outside. That way we'll see everything, and I won't have to spend a week in a coma afterwards. Don't ask what I mean" he said at the confused looks Henry and Emma gave him. "You'll see. So, here we go."

Again Caleb waved his hands, and a moment later all five of the Kemigree participants disappeared. Well, not disappeared, they found themselves floating above the scene, free of their bodies. They could see the entirety of the memory, every detail was made clear, like their eyes had been replaced by digital cameras suspended above the ground. In fact, they couldn't even see their bodies.

_"What the heck!" Henry cried. "Where'd we go? I can't feel anything!"_

_"Sorry about that little me," Caleb said into their minds. "It's just that this way we can watch the whole thing without me having to move our dream bodies all over the place every time we change memories. It's a sudden change, I know, but from this perspective I can narrate properly, and you guys'll see everything you need to."_

_"Can you warn us next time?" Emma grumbled. She'd been caught off guard, and her heart, well, wherever her heart was, it was beating rapidly._

_"I agree" Snow said mildly. "Next time we leap into the psychic plane, Caleb, I'd appreciate a warning." She sounded winded and out of breath. Caleb chuckled._

_"Gotcha, Emma, Nan. You okay Arienna? I know you've done Kemigree before, but astral stuff is kinda tough stuff."_

_"I am well" the fairy told him. Unlike the humans, she sounded calm and collected. "But still, a warning would be nice."_

_"Okay, I'll be sure to warn you guys next time then. So, when I have to I'll set the scene, and if you guys have any questions just say so. I can pause this thing any time I want. Just like watching a movie. Okay, here we go."_

_The scene unfroze, and the memory versions of Henry and Emma sprang back to life_.

"Morning kid," the memory Emma said with a smile. "Good practice? You look beat."

"I am" Henry replied, brushing a wet lock from his eyes. He'd showered after practice. Which was good considering he had a wedding to attend in a few hours. "Had to do two hundred push ups. Master Geon wasn't kidding around. How was your morning? Get everything set up?"

"Yep" she said. "Got your tux from the dry cleaners too." She rapped a knuckle on the bugs rear window. Hung in the backseat alongside her dress was a charcoal black tux, complete with slacks and a matching bow-tie. "Here" she picked up the two cardboard cups at her feet. "Hot chocolate." He accepted it eagerly.

"Cinnamon?" he asked hopefully, sniffing at the rim, letting the chocolate infused steam fill his nostrils.

"Of course" she grinned. "Come on" she pulled open the drivers' door and slipped inside. "We gotta get going if we're gonna have time to change and stuff. That and I still have to make sure the flowers are in the right place. God knows Mr. French won't put them where I told him to."

_"Mr. French managed to reopen his flower business" Caleb told the audience. "Not as nice as the old one, but it gets the job done. He walks with a permanent limp now, too. Mr. Gold did a lot of damage with his cane. I tell ya, that guy may look like a twig, but Gold can dish out a heavy hit when he wants to. For future reference, be careful around him. Not a good idea to mess with him if you don't have to."_

"Right" Henry said. He stuffed his equipment bag into the trunk and took his place in the passenger seat. Reaching beneath the seat, he pulled out a blue spiral notebook with an intricate sharpie drawing, a cobra with red and gold scales. Turning to a page somewhere in the middle, he ran a finger down a passage of carefully printed text. "Hopefully they'll finally start remembering something. The queen threatened them with the curse at their first wedding. Maybe this one'll jog something in their heads." Emma gave a tiny sigh.

_"You still didn't believe me at this point" Caleb put in. "I think you were getting tired of Operation Cobra, that you thought I was too old to believe in that stuff."_

_"Can you blame me?" Emma asked. "It took a fairy whizzing past my face for me to believe all this stuff, and even then I thought I was probably hallucinating." Caleb shrugged audibly._

_"Nah, can't really blame ya. But let me say this at least. I told you so." Henry and Arienna shared a giggle. Snow smiled mentally. He'd told them all really. Before she'd gotten her memory back, he'd still insisted she was Snow White, despite all her attempts to let him down gently. He hadn't backed down. And look who turned out to be right._

"Look, kid" Emma said wearily. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Do you think you could...I don't know, leave that in the car when we get there?" He looked at her blankly. "I mean, I'm just as happy about this as you are. Mary deserves this. But...can the curse stuff wait for another day?" Still he didn't reply. There was an odd look in his eyes, a mixture of confusion, and just a little bit of hurt. She continued. "It's probably not a good idea to do any Cobra stuff in public, I mean. The queen may not be going, but she'll definitely have Sydney there as her eyes and ears. We wouldn't want her to find out they remember or anything, right?"

Henry groaned, flipping the notebook shut. It was an obvious attempt to spare his feelings. A nice one, but obvious. He knew by now she didn't believe him. Not really. And that most of Operation Cobra had been her humoring him for the sake of their relationship. But still, sometimes he liked to pretend she really did believe him. One day she would. For real.

"Fine. But when they start remembering you owe me another hot chocolate." Emma smiled contentedly.

"Fine by me" she agreed. They locked pinkies for a brief moment. This had become sort of a tradition between the two of them. Little promises made, sealed by the linking of pinkies. They made them casually, yet they hadn't broken one yet. Letting her son down was the last thing Emma intended to do.

The drive to the church was filled with idle chatter. What flowers had been ordered, what the sitting arrangements at the reception would be, and a topic that Henry just wouldn't let die. No matter how many times he was told no.

"Why can't I be the ring bearer again?" he asked for perhaps the seven thousandth time.

"You're too old, kid. Offer still stands if you wanna be an usher."

"_**I'm** not too old!" Henry chimed in. "And what's an usher anyway?"_

"_**You're **not there, kid." Caleb said. "Twelve year old us is. And trust me, you don't want to be an usher. They have to make sure everyone's sitting in the right place, and if you're spending all your time doing that, you won't have any time to look around and have fun. There's a ton of kids at this wedding. Nan's everyones' favorite teacher." If her astral form had blood, Snow would be blushing._

"_Oh stop" she chided her eldest grandson._

"_Don't deny it, Nan" Caleb said. "Everyone loves you. Right, mini-me?"_

"_Of course" Henry agreed. "You actually make class fun! Especially birdhouse making, even if I'm not that good at it."_

"_Ah birdhouse making" Caleb said darkly. "My oldest enemy. I was always the worst in the class." Emma quirked a metaphorical brow. _

"_At birdhouse making?"_

"_Think about it" Caleb told her. "Everyone else in my class has been in the fourth grade for almost thirty years. They've made a lot of birdhouses in their time." _

"I'll pass" Henry deadpanned, leaning his cheek against the window. Thirty seconds later they pulled into the church parking lot, and his mood was improved instantly. Despite the early hour the lot was more than half full. The bridesmaids, Ashley and Ruby, could be seen directing a small group of children in the long stretch of grass behind the church that reached from the backdoors to a forest entrance at the property rear. Here white folding chairs had been set up in long rows that bordered the aisle, at the head of which stood a white archway woven with red roses. Bunches of colorful flowers ran the length of the aisle. Snow white lilies, violet freesias, sun kissed daffodils, and pale, cream colored orchids.

_"Wait," Henry said, examing his classmates. "They look...different. Older!"_

_"Emma's made the curse weaker, kid." said Caleb. " Her pressence alone weakens it. This is two years in the future, but most of them have only aged between a year and eighteen months."_

_"I make that much of a difference just by being there?" Emma asked. This perturbed her. If she was supposed to be the Chosen one, what exactly did that entail?_

_"You're the savior, Emma" Caleb told her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The antithesis to the curse. Ever since you came to town peoples problems are being solved. Their happy endings are coming back, and they're on the brink of remembering everything. Today, at this wedding, it's weaker than it's ever been before. It parallels what happened before, see? Anything might jog their memories. Like, for example, true loves kiss to seal a marriage?"_

In an oak tree behind the archway half a dozen blue birds sat together on a branch, head cocking to the side as they observed the preparations. Henry grinned at the sight of them. Snow and Charming may not remember who they were, but their feathered friends did. They'd come to watch their friends get married. Even if their friends didn't recognize them. Grabbing the hanger that held his tux from the back Henry flew out of the bug, tux sleeves flapping behind him like banners.

"Hey, hey hey!" Emma called after him. "No running kid. Too much stuff to knock over. Take it easy." He grinded to a halt beside Ruby's car. Her lucky wolf charm sparkled in the sunlight.

"Got it, sorry" he called back. Glancing back up at the blue birds, he whistled a few notes. No one would believe him if he said so, but he could've sworn they'd whistled back.

"Go and get dressed pal" Emma told him as she passed, dress in hand. "I might need a hand in a minute."

"'Kay" he gave the blue birds a little wave before turning towards the back entrance of the church. It was a rather small church on the inside. The sanctuary only seated about a hundred. That was why they'd moved the ceremony outside. Most, if not all of Storybrooke was coming. And if they weren't coming to the wedding, then they were at least planning to drop by the reception. There weren't many weddings in Storybrooke. The only one anyone could remember was Sean and Ashley's about a year back. Henry knew of course that was the _only _wedding Storybrooke had ever had. Time hadn't moved forward until Emma's coming, so no one had ever gotten married.

It took him only a few minutes to slip into his tuxedo. The vest was blue as the sea, and the jacket was a perfect fit for his slender shoulders. Only the bowtie gave him any trouble. Rather than try to tie it himself and tangle it beyond repair, he walked towards the church kitchen in search of help. There, he found exactly who he was looking for. Granny was busy cooking at the stoves, wondrous fumes spilling out the open window. Sean and Archie were stepping in the backdoor, lugging with them the last of the food boxes. Heaving with the weight, they deposited them against the wall.

"Hey Sean, hey Dr. Hopper" Henry greeted them.

"Hey Henry" Sean said back. "Can't stay and chat, Ashley needs me to take Alexandra for a while. See you in a bit." He stepped past him and disappeared down the hall.

"Morning Henry" Archie greeted cheerfully. "How are you?"

"Good," he held up the tie. "Can you help me with this?"

"Of course" Archie smiled, tugging at his own. "I used to have all sorts of trouble with these. Here, let me show you." He stepped behind the boy, pulled the tie taught against his neck, and began walking him through the process.

"_I never did get the hang of that" said Caleb. "Never really needed to. After this, bowties weren't really in fashion. That's okay though. Never really liked them. Got a friend who loves them though. Thinks they're the coolest thing ever."_

"_Archie?" Henry asked. Archie almost never went without one. He was almost as attached to them as he was to his lucky umbrella. _

"_Nope. Different friend. Didn't meet him until about a year ago. Maybe you'll meet him when this is all over. He likes kids, the Doctor. He acts like a kid most of the time, anyway. Crazy old man." _

With his bowtie tied securely Henry thanked Archie and crept of down a narrow hallway towards the multipurpose room. Emma had said she'd need his help, but that could wait a moment. First, he wanted to pay someone a special visit on her special day. Crouching at the end of the hall, he carefully removed the iron cover of the wall vent. Most if not all of the towns children knew of the church's vent system, and how the vents were large, boxy, and could support a kid's weight. On Sundays kids were in and out all the time, their parents vainly trying to get them to stop. But now it was deserted. Which was just as well. He wanted the element of surprise.

"_You crawl around in the vents?" Emma asked. As a kid she would've loved to do that. It'd be like living in a spy movie._

"_Everyone does it" Caleb and Henry said together._

On his hands and knees Henry crawled the length of the vent before turning left and pushing out of another wall covering. He emerged in the multipurpose room, which in lieu of the big day had been converted into a dressing room. Various racks of dresses were wheeled against the walls, and a large mirror and make up table had been set up in the center. And sitting on a stool before the mirror, garbed in purest white, was Mary Margaret. Snow White. She sat staring ponderously into the mirror's depths

"_You look beautiful, Snow" Emma told her mother quietly. If anyone was meant to wear a wedding dress, it was her. _

"_Thank you…" Snow whispered back. It was odd seeing herself in a wedding dress again. The last time she'd worn one her stepmother had burst in and ruined everything. That was the day everything had started. She found herself feeling hopeful. Just a little bit. Perhaps this wedding would go off without a hitch. But if Caleb was showing it to them, something had to have happened on this day. Knowing fates' devious ways, this wedding would be ruined as well._

"You look very pretty, Miss Blanchard" Henry said. Mary Margaret gave a start, spinning round to face him.

"Oh, Henry. You startled me." Her surprise melted into a smile. "Thank you. You look good too. Very handsome. Did Archie tie that?" she pointed at his bowtie.

"Yeah. I couldn't tie a knot like this" he tugged at it. "Good thing he's here or I'd probably end up wearing this on my nose or something." They shared a laugh.

"So what's up? Does Emma need something?" she asked, peering at the door.

"Nah. Just wanted to wish you luck. Nervous?"

Her smile faded just a tad. She blushed.

"A little bit. Just pre wedding jitters. Nothing to worry about." She paused for a moment, pondering. "It's funny. I'm nervous, but there's part of me that feels like I've done this before. It feels familiar," she tugged at her dress. Henry grinned.

"Of course it's nothing to worry about. You're marrying Prince Charming for crying out loud! Even if something goes wrong it can't end that badly. You two are made for each other." Mary's face softened. She loved the way he said things like that. Though she no longer taught him, Henry remained perhaps her favorite student ever. It was the way he talked with such certainty. His fairy tale theories were so much more than that. They were a religion, almost. A faith that couldn't' be smothered by therapy or even his tyrannical mother. She opened her arms.

"Oh Henry, come here" she pulled him into a warm hug. The fabric of her dress ghosted over the back of his neck. It was soft and fine, like freshly plucked feathers. "You're going to make some girl very happy someday. She won't need a Prince Charming when she's got you." Beet red blush filled her former student's cheeks. They broke apart. "I need to get ready, but thanks for visiting me. I'll see you out there, okay?" Henry nodded, still blushing.

"Okay. Good luck, Miss Blanchard." He kissed her cheek.

"_Oookay" Caleb said, clearly embarrassed. The scene froze, broke apart into a thousand colorful shards, and slowly began to reform. "Enough of the heartwarming mushy scene. On to the ceremony." _

"_I thought it was quite cute" said Arienna. _

"_I agree" Snow giggled. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about Caleb. A boy can have a moment with his Nan if he wants to." _

"_Moving right along!" Caleb said rather loudly. He could hear Emma chuckling in the background. It was only embarrassing with witnesses. Even if those witnesses were his friend, younger self, mother and grandmother. Funnily enough, it was only embaressing looking back on it. Had his mother been present at the time, he wouldn't have found it awkward at all. Caleb continued. _

_The colored shards swirled in an infinite void of white. They were like glass caught in a wind storm, the breezes carefully manipulating each shard into a specific spot. Light flashed across the glassy surface, and a new scene began to form. _

_"There's more to see than this" Caleb told them as the scene fell into place piece by piece. "I talked to some people, played some tag with Gretel and Jack. Oh yeah, Mini-me? You know Rob, the really tall kid in the eighth grade? He turns out to be Jack, like Jack and the beanstalk. A good friend, Jack. A better climber you'll never find. But going back to what I was saying, we don't have time to see that now. We have to get to the important stuff. Namely, the ceremony."_

_The scene finished forming with glossy flash, and those watching gasped at its beauty. _

Melodious organ music across the churchyard, serene notes pulling ears and warming hearts. Gathered in the folding chairs Storybrooke's residents stood in their finest. Mr. Gold sat beside Ms. Harver, a lizard faced woman wearing an abundance of jewelry. Marco sat next to Archie, and Mary Margaret's students sat with their assorted families. A swift wind carried the flower's luscious aromas, and the sky was painted a deep shade of blue. David stood before the archway, Sean by his side. His smile was one of the utmost happiness. Bliss, brought to life.

However, no one noticed any of that. All their attention was focused on the bride's procession up the aisle. Mary was breathtaking. Her gown was of the purest white, a shade so white, it would put a dove's feathers to shame. Her hair was perfect, done up in an elegant style that told of royalty. Simply put, she was a goddess come to earth. An angel, beautiful beyond comprehending.

Emma and the flower girls walked behind her, dressed in robins egg blue.

Mary and David locked eyes, and in that moment, no one existed but them. In their eyes shone love, pure, simple, and eternal. Henry smiled in the front row. Everything was going were together again, reunited through the minstrations of fate. They were soulmates.

With both bride and groom present beneath the archway, the ceremony began. The minister spoke of love in the scriptures, and of god making man and woman one in marriage. Mary's face was aglow. Never before had she looked so happy. It was just like in her dreams. She and her Prince Charming, married at last.

"If there is any reason why these two should not be wed" the minister adressed the congregation. "Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

"I have one!" a shrill bark broke the majesty of the scene. And just like that, the weddings' perfection was shattered beyond repair.

_"No!" Emma spat angrily. Hot rage filled her being. How dare she ruin Mary's special day! "What's she doing here?"_

_"She knows the curse is weakened" said Caleb. "True loves kiss can break all curses, most curses anyway. And there isn't a love purer than theirs. She's trying to fix it, put the curse back in place."_

_Snow, Henry, and Arienna said nothing. Sadness hung thick in the astral plane. _

Dressed elegantly as ever, Regina stalked into the aisle, Sydney hot on her heels. An angry murmur pass through the crowd. With each step of her high heeled shoes, Regina clapped in mock applause.

"What are you doing here!" Emma hissed from Marys' side. Regina smirked smugly.

"Quite a lovely show you've all put on here, Miss Swan. A cake, good food, friends. A wonderful wedding. But" her expression went dark. "There's been enough of this foolishness. You've proved an interesting challenge, Miss Swan. But the game's over now. Everyone's to go back where they belong. You, Miss Blanchard, to your apartment and your classroom, and you, David, to your real wife, Kathryn." They weren't requests. They were demands.

"Our lives are none of your business, Madame Mayor." said David through barely controlled anger. "Leave. Now." Regina's eyes widened impishly.

"Oh, I think you'll find your lives are plenty my business, Mr. Nolan. Everything that goes on in this town is my business." She turned to Henry who sat but a few feet away. "You were right all along, Henry. I'm exactly who you think I am. Fortunately enough, I'm here to set everything right."

Flinging her hands upward, the evil queen sent a mass of purple, foggy tentacles from each of her fingers. The tendrils spread throughout the churchyard, bouncing and spinning their way around each and every person there. With the exception of Emma and Henry. The curse couldn't effect them. They were immune to it. Above them the sun seemed to go dim. A haziness that clouded all sight descended on them like a plague.

The people began to sway where they stood. Inaudible ramblings spewed from their lips, completely incomprehendible. Emma's jaw dropped past her knees. This was magic. Witchcraft. Regina was a witch, an actual, evil witch. She tried to move her tongue to form words, but Henry had already leapt from his seat and barreled towards the bride and groom.

"Wake up!" he begged them. "Wake up!" he shook them by the arms. The pair stopped swaying and buckled to their knees, holding their heads in pain.

"Henry" Mary mewed. "Whats...what's going on?"

"Kiss!" Henry screamed. He looked over his shoulder at the raging queen. Her eyes were murderous. "You've got to kiss."

Looking more than confused, she and David moved their heads together. They were barely conscious, barely aware of what they were doing. But still, their lips met.

With a series of shrieking sounds the purple tendrils snapped and fizzled out of existence. The crowd stopped swaying, and took on looks of confusion and befuddlement. Henrys' heart soared. It had worked. The kiss had worked.

_"Here's where it all went wrong" Caleb said mournfully. "The curse was broken too soon, so it didn't break at all. It tore."_

Beneath them the earth began to shake. Chairs fell over, and the few people still standing toppled to the ground. Church windows shattered, cars shifted in the parking lot, alarms ringing out. The sky was stained blood red. Thunder boombed, and high above them, a long gash was torn in the air. Wind swirled in a tempest. People began to scream. The tear in the sky grew and grew, ripping a hole in the fabric of reality.

Along the middle of the aisle the ground fissured open. Throwing caution to the wind, Emma dove at Henry, wrapping her son in a desprate embrace. Then everything stopped. All went white.

_Silence fell on the astral plane._

_"What...what happened?" Henry asked in horror. _

_"Storybrooke doesn't exist anymore," Caleb explained. "The curse tore, so everyone was pulled back to the world of fairy tales. Pulled back to where they were right as it happened. The queen still has partial control, even without the town. She can shift the fairy tale world, turn it against us. But now, everyone remembers, and we can fight back."_

Emma stumbled forward onto the ground, Henry still wrapped in her arms. They tumbled through a pair of carved wooden doors onto a hard stone floor covered only by a sparse rug.

_"Oh my God" Henry gaped. "It's the wardrobe. We came out of the wardrobe!"_

Indeed. Just as Emma had been sent away from the world of her birth, she was sent back. A few feet away Prince Charming was on his knees, a sword in his hand, wearing a tunic ripped by a wound his chest no longer held. None of them had any time to react. Before even a word could be spoken a group of three armored shoulders charged into the room.

Acting on reflex, Charming slashed upward, severing a soldiers arm at the elbow.

"Emma!" he cried desperately. "Here!" he tossed her his felled enemy's sword. Without thinking Emma hacked at the soldier nearest the door. The weapon felt heavy and unfamiliar in her grip She'd never used a sword before. Charming lunged, silencing the last of them. The soldiers lay crumpled on the ground, dead.

Charming knelt before the doorway and peered out into the hall.

"Come this way" he told the other two. He pulled them by the shoulder out of the room towards another doorwar just three steps down the hall. "Hide up there. More are coming."

Off in the distance, the apporaching sounds of armored feet echoed off the stone walls. Without arguing mother and son tore up the spiral staircase. Tapestries were hung along the tower walls, some depicting the changing of the seasons, others great battles of old.

A minute later they emerged at the towers top. They stumbled out onto the battlements, leaning against the waist high stone walls in exhaustion. Their eyes grew large as saucers. Henry's expression filled with glee. This couldn't be happening. And yet it was.

Spread out before them was the world of fairy tales. The enchanted forest rustled in the breeze. Sunlight sparkled on the old sea in the distance, and a hundred feet below them a black carriage thundered across the drawbridge into the castle courtyard. Emma sank against the wall. Her knuckles went white on the swords hilt. Blood dribbled off the blade, staining her dress.

"Holy shit" she breathed disbelievingly. "Holy shit!"

"Yes!" Henry whooped. "We did it! The curse broke!" He stared in wonder at the surrounding landscape, gazed up at the turrets and towers of Charming's castle. This was everything he'd ever dreamed. He'd been right!

_"It didn't" said Caleb. "And here's where things get even worse. If that's possible."_

"Get down kid" Emma tugged at his shin. "They could get up here any second!" She looked fearfully at the door through which they'd came.

"Just a sec!" he told her. He still hadn't seen everything. He just had to see it all. But as it turned out, that one second proved most unfortunate.

A black shadow, gargantuan and scaled dove at the tower. Emma screamed as a pair of huge bladed claws wrapped around Henry's waist and dragged him upward into the sky. She hadn't even had time to react. The black dragon roared victoriously. Green flames sparked from it's gaping maw of a mouth. Leathery wings beat against the air, carrying their owner ever higher.

_"Maleficent" Caleb told his stunned friends. "She decided to kidnap me in the confusion. It was a brilliant plan, really. I was something both factions wanted. The queen, and you guys. With me in her grasp, she has a bargaining chip to use against both of you."_

"Emma!" Henry screamed. He kicked his legs, trying to free himself as the shape shifting witch carried him away.

"Henry!" Emma shrieked. She called for him again and again, but to no avail. There was nothing she could do. Her son was gone.


	11. The Siege of Three Armies Part I

Emma felt her body rematerialize. It felt like emerging suddenly from a tub of icy water. Feeling came back all in one instant. Prickling sensations tickled her arms, and her every muscle felt numb and exhausted. That wasn't a very good sign, considering this was a dream, and her body wasn't really there at all. She stood back in Henry's old playground, with Henry, Snow, and Arienna beside her.

Their faces were those of dumfounded horror. Just moments ago they'd watched Henry, a twelve year old Henry, carried off by a shape shifting dragon-witch. What exactly the appropriate reaction to such a situation was, none of them could say. This wasn't something that happened often.

Caleb stood a few paces off from the rest, staring out at the misty sea of the Kemigree dream-world. The waves broke and rolled over one another like silvery serpents, scales glittering in the sunlight.

"Don't be worried too much, guys" Caleb told them after a lengthy silence that only added to his friends growing sense of dread. "I obviously make it out alive. I'm here talking to you, aren't I? You guys come to rescue me."

"Why would you stop there?" Emma asked. He'd ended the memory abruptly. It reminded her of all the best cliffhangers in movie history, the ones that left you demanding to know what happened next. Her eyes were fixed on Caleb. Though she hated to admit it, he really did look a lot like his father. He had Jack's hair color, and his way with words. Though Jack never talked like a fairy tale knight, he usually just talked his way into a girl's bed, then slipped out before she could notice. Caleb also carried himself much differently than his father. Jack had an aloof, carefree set of shoulders that only added to his charisma, and a step that spoke of mischief. The mischief Caleb definitely had, but the way he stood now was rigid, almost militaristic. His shoulders were squared and firm, like a general preparing for war. Emma remembered the white swan on his breast plate.

She hadn't asked about that, even though wanted to. Nor had she asked about the numerous titles his wraith counterpart had listed. Dawnbringer, Princess of the Dawn, where had those come from? What had happened in his future and what exactly was he trying to save her from? These questions and a thousand others bounced around her mind. She'd have to force herself to ask eventually. She had to, because as much as similar and Henry and Caleb were, there were still huge differences that had yet to be shown. Caleb had a violent streak, and a temper. They needed to get to know him better, or there could never be a complete sense of trust between them.

"Yeah" Henry agreed shakily. Seeing himself abducted by a fire breathing monster was a bit unnerving. Awesome. Without a doubt the coolest way to get kidnapped imaginable. But still unnerving. "Why not just skip to the rescue?"

"Because" Caleb said, turning to face them. "Here's where the memories get a bit scattered. See, I remember being rescued from Maleficent's keep, being imprisoned there too. But I don't have much leading up that. I can't show you what went into the planning of my rescue, or much of the execution of it, because I wasn't there. That's why" he snapped his fingers and a large wooden table poofed into existence beside the castle. "I have to get a little creative. Come on, take a look."

Still looking frightful, his companions approached the table. What lay upon it made them gasp.

A miniature representation of the Fairy Tale world laid spread over the table like a map. But not any ordinary map. The tiny trees rustled in the breeze, miniscule birds flew over it in flocks, and the ocean, now containing only about twelve ounces of fluid, shifted and flowed just like it's real life counterpart. Little flags marked important locations. Charming's castle, the Enchanted Forest, the great city of Agrabah, capitol of the desert region to the east, and Mt. Tym, the dormant volcano that lay beyond the northern wastes. Here and there across the map little black-purple tendrils sparked like lightning, popping in and out of existence with every blink of the eye. These were the signs of the curse's waning hold on the land. It was the queen trying to take control, disrupting the lands' natural state.

"It's beautiful" Snow said in awe, leaning forward to take a closer look. She knew the layout almost by heart, of course. She was the daughter of King Leopold. Her childhood had been spent, when she wasn't exploring the woods or singing with the birds, with tutors who taught her everything from military tactics to geography. Maleficents keep, a dark tower surrounded by storm clouds and the crackling of lightning, lay just under a hundred miles north of Charming's castle. However, the distance between the two fortresses was rocky and uneven, dotted here and there with small patches of forest. There was no easy way to march any kind of large fighting force to the witch's castle. And they would have to have had an army to breach the walls and rescue her grandson. "How did we do it?" she asked, looking up.

"One second" Caleb said. He turned his gaze to the fairy floating above Henry's shoulder. "Arienna, will you mark the Fountain's location for me? I know roughly where it is," he indicated an area on the map. "But with all the twisting the tunnels do I can never find the exact spot on a map. Can you show me?"

"Of course" Arienna said. She hovered over the 3-d map, searching through the many trees that cluttered the enchanted forest.

"The Fountain?" Henry asked. A bit of the fear receded from his face, replaced by curiosity. Caleb nodded.

"It's the central gathering place of the fairy people. A natural water source in the cave system that runs beneath the Enchanted Forest. Basically, it's the fairy Vatican, their holiest place." Henry only looked more confused. He didn't recognize the word Vatican. "It's the fairies' biggest church" Caleb explained further.

"Oh" Henry said, understanding. "That I understand. "

"Here" Arienna said, indicating a tall oak tree located near the center of the forest.

"Thank you" Caleb snapped his fingers, and another flag appeared beside the tree, reading; Fairy Fountain.

"Why would Maleficent kidnap you?" Emma asked. Her arms were folded across her chest "I know you said she wanted you as a bargaining chip, but aren't she and the queen….I don't know, friends?" The cartoons she'd watched as a kid had always put forth the idea that villains teamed up in these situations. An alliance of evil, like in the Super Friends show. Caleb chuckled.

"Frenemies, really. They'll have tea and biscuits one afternoon, and a fiery climactic showdown the next. Maleficent was actually one of the few exceptions to the curse's memory effect. She got to remember who she was, like the queen and Rumplestiltskin. But she did it grudgingly. Sure, she enjoyed living twenty eight years of relative bliss with Aurora as her maid and under her thumb, but she hated being under the queens' control. So, when the curse tore and we got pulled back into Fairy tale land and she saw me up on the tower, she made a play at power. With me, she hoped she'd be able to control the queen, bend her to her will. That and, Rumpelstiltskin asked her to take me. For completely different reasons of course."

Snows' eyes narrowed dangerously. Arienna looked positively terrified.

"Rumpelstilskin?" Henry asked. "Who is he? I haven't been able to figure him out yet."

"Mr. Gold" Caleb answered. That got Emma's eyes narrowing. Her nostrils flared angrily. There had always been a dangerous aura around the pawnbroker. From the beginning she'd been scared of him, something that scared her even more, and she didn't know why.

"Why?" Snow demanded. "Why would he want you?" Ever trace of the Mary Margaret personality had left her. No meekness, no civility, just fire. Guilt rose like bile in her stomach. She'd dealt with the imp before, knowing full well of his dark, insidious nature. Powers like his weren't to be trusted. They weren't to be meddled with. Yet she had anyway. One of her life's many mistakes.

"He didn't want _me_, exactly. He just wanted the wraith made. He paid Maleficent a kingdoms worth in Minuriam ore, and in exchange, she created a wraith designed to serve him and only him."

Snow felt herself go pale in the face. Emma's body grew rigid, and Henry's blood chilled to ice at the mention of the orange eyed phantom.

"You're going to show us that aren't you?" Snow asked. "You… remember that…oh dear!" She pulled Caleb into a fierce hug, fire leaving her. Tears began trickling down her cheeks. "Dear gods! You…you poor, poor thing! How dare she! How DARE SHE!"

"Shh…shhhh" Caleb soothed. He ran a gauntlet clad hand through her hair. "It's alright Nan. I'm fine. I make it out alright." A choked sob racked his grandmothers' body.

"No one," she breathed harshly. "No one, not even my stepmother deserves to go through that…No one."

"It wasn't so bad" he raised a hand to silence Emma and Henry's questions. "Yeah, it was bad, but once I fell asleep things got a bit better."

"Better?" Snow pulled away to meet his eyes. "Sleep is when it gets worst of all! Shadows in your dreams…devouring your insides!"

"That happened," Caleb said, lips forming a little grin. "But I had someone there to help me. Just wait, you'll see. Now," he broke off from his near hysterical grandmother and paced back to the map. "Let me show you how the escape plans worked out, from an outside perspective."

He snapped his fingers and a tiny crowd of men, guarded in red armor appeared on the map like pieces on a chessboard. A banner fluttered above their heads bearing a sword crossing a dragons head, Charming's insignia. They stood roughly ten miles away from the castle beside a shabby looking tower built near a lake.

"After getting pulled back into fairy tale land," Caleb began, "the queen was easily able to capture the castle with the forces she had. There was no point in defending it really. Our men wouldn't have stood a chance. But after Maleficent grabbed me, Emma, Pop, and Nan, managed to fight their way down to the cellar and take these escape passage out. From there, you met what remained of the guards at the Ditch" he pointed to the lakeside tower. "It's a meeting point designed for specifically such a situation" Caleb explained to Emma and his younger self. "Just in case the castle was ever overtaken. Luckily, our friends knew to meet there as well."

Another group of tiny figures appeared on the map. These, however, were not army miniatures, but a group of distinct individuals. Red Riding Hood and the seven dwarves running through the woods to join the army at the tower, followed closely by Geppetto, who carried little Pinocchio in his gangly old arms. When the miniatures were all gathered, Caleb continued.

"I can't really go over the specifics of how you planned it or how exactly you came up with it. Like I said, I wasn't there. But I do know what you did, you guys told me afterwards, of course. Using spare bits of equipment found at the Ditch, Geppetto and the dwarves managed to rig some crude siege weaponry. Nothing too impressive, a half decent trebuchet, shields to block arrow fire from above, but it was all they could do. With the machinery Pop marched the army, 'bout three hundred men, to Maleficents keep. Thomas and Ella couldn't help, they were too far away, and their kingdom had its' own problems. Same with Aurora and Phillip."

A tiny Charming miniature popped into being at the army's head, as did a pair of wooden trebuchets, and three of the dwarves, along with Geppetto, moved to join him. Together, the little group began its trek over the rocky terrain towards the malignant looking spire that was the witch's fortress.

"A direct assault?" Snow asked incredulously. "Thats not a strategy, that's suicide."

"While he was doing that, you, Emma, Red, and the rest of the dwarves went another way. To the mines." Emma, Snow, Red Riding Hood, and the four tiny dwarves left, moved in the opposite direction of the army, before disappearing into a cavernous opening hidden in among the hills.

"The mines?" Emma asked.

"It's where the dwarves work" said Snow. "They mine for jewels, ore, anything they can sell really. But I don't understand, why would we go there? The tunnels don't go anywhere near the keep."

"They didn't," Caleb grinned. "But they did afterwards. You dug a new one. In a single day." That earned him blank stares.

"One day?" said Snow disbelievingly. "Impossible. There's at least three miles worth of rock to dig through."

"Remember what else was down there?" Caleb's brows wiggled mischievously on his forehead. "Rumpelstiltskin's prison. He was right where you left him." He turned to Emma. "You made a deal with him. Two, actually, to get what you needed. His freedom, and a lock of your hair in exchange for magic picks and a map of how to dig into the keep. He delivered his end of the bargain, and you guys dug inside."

"They dug inside!" Henry chirped. Fear had left him entirely now. This was getting really cool! "They didn't run into a Balrog, did they? Bad stuff hides underground."

"Nah," Caleb grinned. "Just a few pygmy crawlers. Lizards, harmless. Meanwhile" another group of miniatures appeared on the map, these armored in dark colors, with a banner bearing the image of an apple fluttering above them. This army marched away from Charming's castle towards the keep, but from the other direction, taking the dirt paths that meandered through the forest instead of trying to navigate the rocky hills. "The queen moved her army in from the other side. Factor in all the time for troop movement and planning, I was imprisoned for about a week. That imprisonment ended with a battle, the battle that started the revolution. The Siege of Three armies, people come to call it."

"Three armies?" Arienna hovered over the map, the dust she trailed scattering over it, annoying the little men who marched its' surface. "There's only two, and one them can hardly be called an army." Caleb closed his eyes wistfully. He'd missed her snobbish princess talk. Yes, it got annoying incredibly fast, but it had its charm to it, and it never last long anyway.

"How the third army comes into play is actually the interesting part of the story." He turned back to his grandmother, glancing between her, his mother, and his younger self. "Are you guys ready? I'll warn you now, it's pretty grim stuff."

They nodded. It was stuff they had to see, unpleasant as it may be.

Reclosing his eyes, Caleb raised his hands again, and the playground, along with the table, dissolved into the either. Shards of the surrounding landscape broke apart and swirled around them and reshape.

Their bodies disappeared, and the group found themselves once again in the astral plain. Floating as free consciousness able to watch the scene in its entirety, without the flawed perspective that came with a pair of eyes.

For a moment only white nothingness surrounded them. The shards were semisolid blobs heedlessly through the air. And then the shards regained their colors, their solidity returned, and they came together to form a new scene before them.

Twelve year old Henry sat against the stone wall of a small jail cell sealed off by a rusty iron gate. Dirt streaked his once immaculate tuxedo, and heavy shackles were locked around his ankles, securing him to the wall with a long chain. The only light was a spluttering lantern hung in the hallway outside the cell. It cast dark shadows over the boys' tired face. He was tired, despite having not moved for several days. The cells floor was covered in a thin layer of straw, providing a poor if tolerable mat for sleeping. Out in the hall a guard patrolled. It was an ogre, a huge, mass off fatty tissue and muscle with a loosely humanoid shaped body. It carried an axe thrice as long as Henry was tall, and a ring of keys jangled at his belt.

"_It's really not as bad as it looks" Caleb told his horrified audience. "The food actually wasn't too bad, and my cellmate helped the time pass more quickly." _

"_Cellmate?" Emma queried. Apart from Henry, the cell appeared empty. "What cellmate?"_

"_Look closer," Caleb directed. "In the corner."_

_All astral eyes turned to the corner. At first glance there was nothing there, but upon closer observation, a straw-colored, rodent-like creature roughly the size of a small dog could be seen huddling in the far corner. It's fur was bristly, like a hedgehogs quills, and it's front mandibles protruded a full three inches out from its' upper jaw. A heavy iron collar hung about its' neck, binding it to the wall. _

"_A dire rat" Snow whispered. She'd seen creatures of its kind before in the forest. They weren't particularly nasty creatures, but they weren't the kind of thing you'd keep as a pet either. They weren't rabbits. Similar to gnomes they kept their homes burrowed beneath the ground, away from the sunlight. Their eyes were poorly developed, and couldn't take much sunlight without being completely blinded. _

"_His name is Stevanosiar, son of Driasnkenths" said Caleb. "I call him Steve." _

'Steve' lifted his head from the straw covered floor. His eyes were milky white, with a pinprick sized pupil at the center.

"You doin' alrigh', shorty?" he asked in a guttural voice like nails screeching on a chalkboard. 'Shorty' was the only word he didn't drop the t for. Henry didn't answer at first. His eyes followed the ogre guard until he disappeared around the corner, taking it's terrible smell with it.

"I'm fine Steve" he said, turning to his cellmate. The ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Look at this." He lifted a hand to show him a ring of keys.

Steve's hair went rigid, standing up like he was a porcupine.

"How'd you ge' tha'?" he asked quietly. His tiny eyes darted to the door.

"Guard dropped it" Henry whispered back, going to work on unlocking his restraints.

"_Ogres are rather dim" Arienna commented. "One wander too close to our home in the forest, and we lured him away using a squirrel and a bit of string. The ugly thing had never seen anything so interesting before."_

"Here" free of his bonds, Henry crawled to the dire rats side and used a wax colored key to unlock the collar around his neck. "Figured you'd need help taking that off, seeing as you don't have thumbs. Come on," he turned cautiously towards the cell door. "Let's get out of here."

"_Cunning as my escape attempt may seem" Caleb commented. "This wasn't really a good idea. Maleficent planned this. Told the guard to drop the key to see if I'd risk trying to get out. Wanted to test me, see if I needed to be sedated for what she'd do next. Rather brutal test, considering what happens next. Quite the mad scientist, Maleficent. Always with the tests and theories. Might wanna look away kid, it's not pretty." Henry tensed in the astral plane. Slowly his fear started trickling back. _

"Hope you know wha' you're doing, shorty" Steve muttered as the door creaked open. "Remember the way ou' of here?"

"I think so" Henry said back. He crouched low to the floor, peering down the hall in both directions. The coast was clear. On the balls of his feet he crept forward, Steve close behind him. So slow was his pace that he noticed the thick layer of dust that coated the lower part of the walls, and the pattern of the cobwebs that hung like streamers just below the ceiling. Precisely twenty two steps from the cell the pair reached the end of the hall. Carefully, Henry leaned forward to peer around the corner.

Not three feet away Maleficent stood, draped in a long black robe that trailed several feet behind her. She carried with her a long staff topped with a dragon figurine. In the other hand she held a long animal horn dripping with green fluid.

"Crud!" Henry cried. He spun on his heel and tried to run back the way he came. But with a tap of her staff Maleficent brought a slab of the ceiling down to the ground, walling off his path.

"Well, well, well" she tisked. "What do we have here?" Apart from her choice of dress, she was identical to her Storybrooke counterpart Ms. Harver. She had the same lizard-like face, and the same haughty way of speaking. "Someone's a troublemaker, aren't they Henry? Pity, I'd hope I wouldn't have to use this. I always prefer to have a conscious specimen when I do my work. No matter." She lunged forward with the horn.

Henry's wrist however, being that of a young boy, was much faster. He knocked the horn from her grip and darted past her, sprinting as fast his short legs would take him. Reacting nearly as fast, Maleficent brought her staff down in front of him and pulled him backward, spinning him back around to face her. Her hand flew towards his cheek as if to slap him. But it wasn't a slap. In later days, Henry would wish it had been a slap.

Mid motion Maleficent's hand morphed into a large dragons' claw, each point the length of a short sword. Two points found their mark on his cheek, carving what would be permanent scars into his flesh. A screaming sob escaped Henry's lips as he crumpled to the ground. Steam rose from the wounds as the venom began its work. A terrible hissing noise joined the steam, and Steve covered his eyes with his fore-paws. He couldn't watch. The scene blurred, and in less than an instant was replaced by the inside of the jail cell. Henry lay prone against the wall asleep. His wounds glistened sickly in the lamplight.

"_Maleficent's claws are poisonous" Caleb told his silent, petrified audience. "She gave me a serum that stopped it from killing me. She couldn't kill me, not if she wanted to make the wraith. So, instead of dropping dead I spent the next few days fading in and out of consciousness. Maleficent like it that way. I couldn't cause any trouble trying to escape, so she had time to prepare her spell." He paused. "Well, there's the explanation for how I got the scars…. If it's worth anything kid, you won't have to go through any of this. Me going back in time changed things. The witch won't have a chance to grab you now. I'll see to that." Another long silence passed. No one knew what to say. They were too traumatized to say anything. _

"_What…what was the spell you mentioned before, Caleb?" Emma asked quietly. She didn't want to know the answer. Not if it was worse than this. Nothing could be worse than this. There her son lay below her in agony. Yet she couldn't do anything this was the past. The future's past. Yet she had to ask. She couldn't simply leave the memory now not knowing what it was that made Caleb who he was. Each of his scars, and his cobra tattoo, told its own story, and those were stories that she had to hear. _

"_The spell of Duality" Caleb answered just as quietly. "It's what creates a wraith. Maleficent starts it on the seventh day of my imprisonment. That's the day the siege started, the day you came to get me out….We can skip that part, if you want. I certainly have no wish to see it again." _

"…_You okay, kid?" Emma asked Henry. She couldn't see him in their spectral forms, but she knew if he could, he'd be shaking. "Wanna stop? Because, we can if you need to." For him, this must be like watching a horror movie where he was the victim. _

"_No….I'll be fine. Really. Caleb…keep going. I'm fine." He certainly didn't sound fine. But he was trying to be brave. _

"_Alright" his older self consented. "It gets better after a bit, I'm not awake for the entire thing, and there are some creepy parts. But just say the world and I'll send you back to the castle, okay? _

"_Okay" Henry agreed. He hoped that wouldn't have to happen. He wanted to be brave. With that, the scene started to shift once again._

When the scene reformed, Henry was no longer in the prison cell. Instead he was in a large circular room with a domed ceiling with a panel opened to show the sun blazing in the sky outside. A circular dais took up the rooms' center, and it was on this dais that Henry was strapped into what appeared to be an empty brass doorframe. He was chained so that despite his semi conscious state, made evident by his only half open eyes and slumping posture, he was standing up relatively straight. He was bare chested, and a series of black ink markings had been drawn down his sternum and across his navel.

"_The ink spots mark the locations of chakras" Caleb explained. "Points on the body where spiritual energy is most focused."_

Across from the boy stood a large ornate mirror lacquered to a perfect shine. His reflection took up the mirrors dead center, and the sunlight reflected off its surface, scattering glittering sparkles around the room.

Between Henry and the mirror was a pool built into the floor. It was at least ten feet deep, and held a silvery gray mush halfway between solid and liquid.

At the far eastern side stood a mahogany door, through which Maleficent entered, carrying her staff as always.

"How are feeling, my dear boy?" she asked in a sing song voice. Henry didn't answer. He was barely aware of the question. As such, the memory was blurred, causing bits and pieces to jump in and out of focus at random. "Well that's too bad" she said to his silence. A terrible smile graced her lips. "Let us begin then, shall we? Wouldn't want to keep Rumpels waiting."

Tapping her staff once on the floor, she caused the dais to rotate so that the sun shone directly on Henry's back, casting his shadow over the pool of lumpy silver. His reflection in the mirror went dark, outlined by a thin rim that touched the mirrors' glassy surface. Stepping off the dais, Maleficent reached into her robes and withdrew small leather pouch. She emptied its contents into her hand, a fistful of bright pink powder, finer than sand, and with a flick of the wrist she tossed it into the air. As the powder descended lazily around her, forming a shocking pink cloud, she raised her staff.

"Dualisonaris" she incanted, twirling the staff through the cloud in an elaborate motion. The dragon figure at the staff's tip lit up, and the ink marking Henrys' chest began to glow with a dark, black light that shadowed whatever it touched instead of illuminating it.

The shadow cast across the pool grew darker and more defined. Then, the reflection in the mirror started casting its own shadow. It crossed over the existing one on the pools surface, and then the shadows became lights unto themselves, casting darkness around the entire room. The opening in the ceiling above went black, eclipsed by the shadowy light, and Henrys' body began to shake as the ink on his chest grew brighter and brighter.

_Henry shuddered. _

"_Are you alright?" Caleb asked._

"_I'm…I'm fine" Henry stammered, unsure. _

Suddenly, a silver, lumpy hand lurched out of the pool and clawed at it's rim. In the same instant, the mirror shattered, and Henry's reflection, still standing there like a pale transparent ghost, stepped towards the pool at a snail's pace.

"_I'm not okay! I'm not oaky! Get me out!" Henrys' fear took control, his breathing grew heavy and ragged. He sounded like he was astraly hyperventilating. _

"_Just one more second kid. This part ends….now." _

Just as Caleb said, the scene shifted suddenly. The domed room with the pool disappeared, replaced by a huge forest at twilight. Little moonlight pierced the thick canopy of the treetops, leaving Henry in a mostly dark clearing filled with fallen leaves, twisted shrubs, and gnarled overgrown roots. His breath was visible in the air, crystalline cobwebs in the cold atmosphere. An eerie sense of foreboding dominated the scene. There was something dangerous about. Unseen.

"_What…what happened?" Emma asked tensely. "Where are we?"_

"_My dreams" Caleb answered. "The most well-known side effect of the duality spell is the nightmares it forces on it's victims. What you have to understand is that in order to create a wraith, the spell draws on the victim's negative qualities. It draw on your anger, your fear, your insecurities, your arrogance, everything that's bad about you, and pulls them to the surface of your soul. Those negative qualities manifest here in the world of dreams, and the victim is forced to endure them as the wraith starts to take on a physical body of its own. Don't be afraid, though. It turns out I had friends in the world of dreams. My nightmares don't know what hit them."_

Henry gasped. Suddenly, he was awake and fully aware of his surroundings. Hadn't he just been chained up? Where had this forest come from? Mist hung heavily in the shadows, draping the surroundings in mystery. All that could be seen among the trees were vague shapes. A shrub grown up against a tree, a fallen branch, something hunched over, moving back and forth, growing closer.

This had to be a dream. There was no other explanation for his suddenly appearing here. But this was nothing like his past dreams. In those everything was blurred. It didn't feel like he was really there, like he was sleep walking down a foggy street, and when he woke, he could barely remember a thing. Just a few images with a few emotions scattered in.

This was nothing like that. This he could see clearly. This had to be a dream, but it felt entirely real.

Out among the trees the shadows split and multiplied. Any direction he looked, a vague, monstrous creature was making it's way towards him. Slowly, their outlines came into focus, and moonlight revealed their forms.

At the head of the pack was a bloody, twisted creature of rage, contorted limbs sticking in out at random angles along its body. In its walk, Henry could see and feel every time he'd ever felt angry. Every stubbed toe, every moment of frustration at his adopted mothers' wickedness, it was all there wrapped in a body of enormous muscle and dribbling blood.

Sadness came a next. A gaunt faced phantom draped in the blue of a rainy day. Endless tears poured down its face. Henry felt like weeping at the sight of it. All those lonely years spent alone in a world where time stood still, where no one ever changed but him. No friends, and a mother who bore await at his psyche every chance she could. Hopelessness unending. That's what it had been.

Green envy came next, followed closely by yellow fear, each a living manifestation of the things he'd always coveted and feared. A loving family to depend on, a bat-like ghoul that dragged itself along the forest floor, yearning for a taste of young human flesh. After these came an endless stream of monsters and beasts straight from the pages of fiction. A minotaur, horned and muscled. A gorgon, with hissing serpents for hair. A dementor from Harry potter, draining all happiness as it went. Manticores and Chimeras, skeletons and skrulls, every manner of monstrosity was present. Every horror his imagination could conceive was represented.

Henry found himself curling into a ball on the ground and tucking his knees beneath his chin. He tried to hide his eyes in his shirt, but it did no good. These monsters were a part of him. No matter how hard he tried, they could not be unseen.

A howl sounded somewhere off to the right. Henry balled himself tighter. Uncontrollable sobs left him. Tears soaked the front of his shirt. This was how it ended. Him, alone, and ripped to pieces.

Suddenly he heard a snarl and a white blur dashed into the clearing. A wolf, with one red eye and another black pounced on top of him, forcing him downward. But instead of devouring him on the spot it crouched above him protectively, flashing it's fanged teeth, hackles raised like spears. The monsters were unimpressed. They advanced closer, ready for a feast, when an arrow whizzed over the wolfs head, taking the embodiment of fear in the eye. Three more arrows launched out of the forest, each finding their target.

A huge figure barreled into the clearing. In one hand he swung a curved hunting knife, in the other, a blazing torch. With a fearsome battle cry the figure spun about wildly, swinging the torch and thrusting with the knife. His body was covered in furs, and a set of bow and arrows hung across his back. Haze hung about his grizzled face, concealing it.

"Back!" he roared. "Back to the shadow!" Craning his neck backward he howled like the wolf. The howl rang out, and five others rang out in response. Five more wolves, these a smoky gray, leapt to join the man and their white brother. Growling, they slashed at the monsters with their claws, forming a ring around Henry's prone form.

"_Why are they…helping me?" Henry whispered. "Who is he?"_

_Caleb grinned despite his lack of lips. _

"_Just wait. This is the best part." _

"Back! Back!" the man cried again. His voice was almost a snarl. Like a wolfs'. His fighting stance was that of a wolf as well, hunched low on the balls of his feet, knife ready to lunch like a steel tooth. "Don't worry lad" he told Henry in a thick Irish brogue. "We've gotcha. These beasts can't hurt ya." The haze drifted away, revealing a familiar face, grinning, neck covered in stubble. The huntsman.

"Sh-Sheriff Graham?" he asked. He couldn't believe it. Graham was dead.

"_Graham?" Emma repeated. "How the hell is he here?" The last she'd seen of her predecessor as sheriff had been in a casket, after dying moments after they'd kissed. It wasn't possible for him to be here._

"_Just watch" Caleb urged. "He'll explain it better than I can." _

"Aye, lad. It's good to see you again. You've grown. Give me just a moment, and I'll have these buggers dealt with. Then we can talk, aye?" He didn't wait for an answer. Drawing his bow and sheathing his knife he let loose a flurry of arrows in four different directions. Each was shot with deadly accuracy, and brought down their intended targets. "Back!" the Huntsman bellowed for a third time. "You will not harm the boy. Be gone!"

Slowly, helped along by the wolves' growling, the bestial nightmares withdrew into the darkness. They disappeared into the fog amongst the trees, leaving Henry alone with his rescuers. The white wolf let Henry up off the ground and moved to stand beside its brothers, watching the forest cautiously. Graham lowered his weapons and turned the face the boy. Again he was grinning. Henry had never seen him smile like that before. Every memory he had of the former sheriff smiling they were halfhearted lips curves pretending to be smiles. This on the other hand was a full, boisterous grin, full of happiness, full of life.

"Hey there lad, all the beasts are gone now. Well, except our friends here," he gestured to the wolves. "But they aren't here to hurt you. They're here to help, and so am I."

"H-how are you here?" Henry asked. "Y-you're-"

"Dead?" the Huntsman finished for him. "Yes, I am. But death isn't quite the handicap it's made out to be. In some cases, it's quite liberating. As for why I'm here in your dreams, that's a bit complicated. Do you mind listening?" Henry shook his head. "Come then, let us walk. I shall explain."

Together the two humans walked down a narrow forest path bordered on both sides by thick underbrush. The wolves fanned out on either side of them, serving as a sort of honor guard as they progressed through the trees.

"You know I was raised by wolves, don't you?" Graham asked. "It was in your book."

"Yes," Henry answered. "It said your human family was killed, and that the wolves took you as one of their own." Graham nodded.

"In short, yes, that's what happened. For most of my life I've lived as the wolves do, only ever entering human society when I absolutely had to. Human ways were foreign to me, unfamiliar. The wolves are my family, and I felt most comfortable with them. Have you guessed how it I died, back in Storybrooke? Me simply collapsing had to have seemed suspicious."

"I think… the queen crushed your heart." Another nod.

"She did." his face was stony for a moment. "Her vault was hidden beneath her father's grave in the cemetery."

_Emma took a sharp, rasping breath. Regina had murdered Graham literally moments after he'd left her. That was how far her level of tolerance went for disobedience. If she couldn't have him as her own, no one would. So she'd murdered him in cold blood, and crushed his heart to dust in her hands._

"_It's not your fault" Snow told her daughter. "You couldn't have known."_

"_I guess not" Emma conceded. "That doesn't mean I can't be bitter about not knowing." _

"You see Henry," Graham continued. "Wolves aren't like humans. They don't have an afterlife, a heaven or a hell. When wolves die, they come here to the land of dreams and wait to be reborn again. The queens curse is a perfect prison, so when I died, I could not pass on to the world beyond death. I was left drifting in emptiness, a blank purgatory between the worlds" his words went quiet, almost painfully so. Recalling his journey through the world of empty spirits was nothing if not painful. "But it seems my family was watching out for me, even in my death. Their spirits pulled my soul here, to the Wolf Dream, that's what they call this place, to dwell here with them, until the curse is broken. Until your mother breaks the curse. And she will break it. It's her destiny. When you see her again, thank your mum for me, will you? It's thanks to her I got this back, that I can feel again," he placed a hand to his chest, where his heart beat like war drum.

"I'll tell her" Henry said. He flashed a knowing smile. "You kissed her, didn't you? That's how you got your memories back." Graham nodded.

"It is. In my defense, I am dead now, so I won't go hurting her or anything like that. You seem like the overprotective type, especially when it comes to her." Henry laughed.

"Emma doesn't need my defending. And besides, I don't think she'd like me bullying her boyfriends. Dead ones included." They shared another laugh. Out in the trees, one of the wolves even snickered.

"_If you did have any boyfriends after this, you didn't tell me about them" Caleb said. "We were fairly busy in the proceeding years, fighting a war and all. We didn't have much time for romance. Well, I had time, but puberty does pesky things like that. It makes time for such things even if you don't want them." _

The white wolf exited the trees and came to stand in front of their path. It looked up at Henry, red and black eyes quizzical. Henry tried to step past it. The wolf wouldn't let him.

"What's he doing?" Henry asked.

"He's offering you something. What the wolves gave me when I was just a babe. Brotherhood." He took Henry by the shoulders and knelt to his eye level. "The wolves have been watching you, you know. For a long time now. They know who your mother is, and what she's destined to do. They can see your destiny too, written in your dreams. You're a lot like them, Henry. You're loyal, and strong hearted. The last battle is coming, Henry, and your mum will need every hand she can get when that day comes. I'm asking on the wolves behalf, will you join with them? You're fated to lead the Last Hunt, Henry. When all of this comes to an end, you have to be there if Emma's to win. So, will you do this, Henry? You have a choice you know. The wolves won't take anyone unwilling."

"I'll do it" Henry answered without hesitation.

_Caleb chuckled._

"_What all that means, 'the last battle' 'the last hunt', I didn't know for sure until years later. The Huntsman's being awfully cryptic, isn't he? It actually turns out to be much more complicated than it sounds, if that's possible. But if I'm proud of any decision I've ever made, it's this one. Wolves are the truest friends you can have. And after what they do today, I'm indebted to them forever."_

"Alright then" Graham said. "Then accept his offering. Good luck, lad." The huntsman turned and walked further down the path. He looked back over his shoulder. "You'll be seeing me again. Soon, before the end comes."

Looking down, Henry's eyes met those of the wolf, and everything shifted. The dream around him grew blurred and distorted. A series of rapid images flashed through the twelve year olds' mind. They were complete nonsense. A tree, a man with a sword, a bird midflight, but as each images pass his minds' eye, it became a word. Instantly he knew this was how the wolves talked to one another, telepathically, with pictures instead of vocalization.

"**I welcome you, pup of Dawnfang" **the wolf told him. The word 'Dawnfang' was associated with Emma's picture. That was what they called her. The fang that would bring a new dawn. **"Remember, the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack. In your time of direst need, you need only ask."**

Suddenly, Henry was back in the waking world, chained to the doorframe in the circular chamber. The opened slat in the ceiling revealed it was now evening, the purplish glow of the setting sun coloring the domed ceiling. His scarred body was limp and littered with pain. He could barely moved. His eyes were swollen, only half opened. Summoning his last breath, he pleaded to the silence.

"Please…help me."

A wolf's howl sounded in the distance outside the keep. A moment later, a hundred others answered. Deep in the Enchanted Forrest, an army began assembling.

"**We come" **the wolves spoke into his mind. **"We come." **

**A/N: Decided to turn this into a two parter. Otherwise, this would've been like fourteen thousand words by itself. I want to keep chapter length consistent. As to exactly what's happening, that question'll be answered in part two. Hope you guys like the cliffhanger. Happy reading. **


	12. The Siege of Three Armies Part II

Again the scene shifted. The circular room dissolved into a cloud of swirling shards, like snowflakes caught in a storm. They whirled and glowed, before finally falling into place, taking the form of a dark forest. Moonlight slanted in through the treetops above, illuminating a large group of wolves as they shot through the trees, slinking quietly as shadows, running fast as the wind.

There were dozens of them, hundreds even, gathered from the many packs that wandered the forested parts of these lands. They were an army, fanged and furred, with the white wolf at the head. His red and black eyes shone dangerously in the moonlight.

"_How many are there?"_ _Henry asked in awe. Never before had he seen so many wolves in the same place. The only ones he'd ever seen had been the solitary stragglers who sometimes wandered onto the road out of Storybrooke. This was something else entirely._

"_Three hundreds and eighty seven" Caleb answered. "As many as they could find that were close enough to help. Some couldn't come. They were too far away, or they had a pack feud with one of the packs already here. But this is more than enough. Here's the third army, Arienna. An army of wolves." _

_The fairy princess didn't speak. She'd been proven wrong it seemed. Two groups of a few hundred men going at it could hardly be called a battle of armies, let alone a battle to be remembered. But add a third army consisting entirely of wolves, and you had an event that would live on in legend._

"_How are you showing us this?" Emma asked. "You aren't here. I though you couldn't show us what you weren't there to see." Her mind was still reeling from the unexpected appearance of Graham. Her emotions were a strange, murky soup swelling within her. Her sort of dead boyfriend was a spirit, guiding her son on some kind of vision quest. Her son, the only person on earth she was sure she loved, had been tortured, and forced to endure the tauntings of his worst nightmares. _

_That alone made her want to scream. To cry. She felt helpless, and Emma Swan didn't do helpless Not if she could help it. She set those emotions aside for the time being. There was hardly time to deal with them now, when they were in the middle of viewing the futures past, and when she did deal with them, she'd have to do it properly. Knowing her, If she put it off much longer, or if she did it wrong, she'd spend months in a catatonic state of depression, barely able to function properly, and completely unable to participate in any curse-breaking Caleb had no doubt planned for them to do._

"_I saw through the wolves' eyes. That's part of my connection with them. I see what they see, hear what they hear, and feel what they feel. It's the connection that binds packs together. A sort of telepathic net that lets them think and feel as one entity, as a hive mind. That's why wolves are such good hunters. They can coordinate better than any other creature. My bond with them is why people end up calling me the Wolf King. I led wolves into battle. The battle of Springhill, Olivey's Hollow, Mt. Tym, the assault on the queens' fortress, the Last battle," he listed. "Hell, I even led a few at Demons' run. Wolves didn't like it much there. Nothing to hunt, and not nearly enough trees. _

"_Demons' Run?" Snow asked, speaking for the first time in ages. "I've never heard of it." That surprised her. There were few cities or castles she didn't know about. A princess had to know these things; it was part of the job. _

"_Asteroid. Had to help a friend of mine raise an army, save another friend's baby. Long story. I'll tell it to you sometime. Not now though, gotta stay on topic."_

"_Alright" she didn't press. Carefully, she examined the wolves' ranks. In the semi darkness of the forest, it was hard to pick out any individual wolf. Their gray or black furs blended together, forming a single, huge mass of fur stampeding through the woods. They looked strong though. All were of decent size, and none had been left bony by extended periods of hunger. "But let me ask, where are they going, exactly? How are they going to help us get you out?" _

_It was a fair question. Wolves were more than capable in combat, and their help was much appreciated, but how exactly would they help take the keep? Wolves weren't equipped for scaling castle walls or piercing a soldiers chainmail. _

"_They split off into two main groups" he answered. _As he did so, the herd of wolves parted in two. Most of them followed after a large, muscly black with a streak of silver down his flanks, while the rest, adding up to two or three dozen, followed the red and black eyed white._ "The first is going to help Pop at the gates. He needs it. His siege engines can only do so much damage, and his men can only keep their distraction going on for so long. The rest are going to the tunnels, to find you, Emma. Apart from me and Graham, you're one of the few humans they actually trust."_

"_Me?" Emma asked. If she had a body, her brows would be contorted on her forehead, confused. "Why would they trust me? What do I have to do with wolves?" _

"_You're the savior" Caleb and Henry answered at exactly the same time. Caleb chuckled. _

"_You're the savior, Emma" her elder son said again. He said it quietly, voiced laced with an amount of seriousness rare for his usually cheery personality. "To them, you're the Dawnfang. The curse-breaker. They trust you, because they know you're meant to save us all. Wolves are a loyal lot, and they'd follow you to Oblivions' gates if they had to. I know" he added, sensing her uneasiness. "You don't feel like a leader. That's okay. No good leader would ever call themselves a good leader. And you're the best leader. Just keep watching. We can talk about it later, if you want. This has to be hard, seeing all this."_

"_Yeah" Emma sighed. Talk about it. Six months ago, talking about her feelings with someone other than herself would have seemed laughable. After nearly twenty nine years of being an introverted loner, the idea still made her cringe. Opening up to people meant showing your weaknesses. And as the world always proved, nine times out of ten, people would use that weakness to stab you in the back. Henry and Snow she could trust, that she knew. Caleb too, probably. He'd proven beyond doubt that he was Henry, albeit aged nearly a decade. But that didn't make talking with any of them any easier. It just wasn't in her nature. Not even circumstance would change that very quickly. "You okay kid?" she asked Henry. "Some of that stuff back there had to be creepin' you out. Are you okay?" _

_Her tone was as close to motherly compassion as she could manage. Even as the words left her mouth she had to force herself not to tremble. The spell to create the wraith and the subsequent nightmares had probably done more to haunt her than him. Seeing ones' child tormented was just as bad, if not worse, than ones' own torment._

"_I'm fine" Henry breathed. "Really. That stuff wasn't scary. Well, maybe a little. Not much" he admitted sheepishly. 'A little scary' didn't even come close to describing it. There wasn't much that could get a ten year old to admit they'd been afraid. Ten year old, especially ten year old boys, were a species who valued bravery over everything else. In a heartbeat, any of them would trade all the toys in the world just to be able to say they'd looked danger head on, completely unfazed. _

"_Good. Just say the word and we can stop, alright?"_

"_Alright" Henry said a little too loudly. "I will. Let's just keep going." Emma couldn't help but smile. Even this young, the kid certainly had his fair share of male pride. He wouldn't back down from anything if he could help it. _

Suddenly the group of wolves headed by the silver flanked black erupted out of the forest and onto a stretch of grass set at the top of a steep, dirt covered hill. The hill was steep, with an incline of maybe seventy degrees, and at its bottom, marked by a path of stone and an enormous bridge, was Maleficents' keep. Rocky slabs eroded by the passing of time bordered the entrance to the bridge, enclosing the keep in a rocky slit through the hills.

Over the bridge stood the gates into the entry courtyard, splintered and torn by the barrage of two trebuchets set up on the bridges' opposite side. These were operated by the dwarves Doc and Dopey, each with a brother as an assistant who handed them stones to fire. Geppetto ran back and forth between the two siege engines, making what repairs he could.

The courtyard itself was surrounded on all sides by thick stone walls that would have been all but impenetrable if it hadn't been for the wooden gates, whose steel reinforcement bolts were feeble at best. Atop the walls ogre guardsmen armed with cudgels the size of tree trunks ran back and forth, lobbing stones into the hysterical chaos that took up the courtyards center.

Here was where the battle proper was taking place. Two opposing groups of soldiers, some garbed in the red of Charming's banner, and some in the sickly green that designated Maleficents' forces. These were no ordinary soldiers. Each of their heads was twisted into that of an animal, a boar, with long white tusks, an eagle with a curved beak, or a bear with dark brown fur and a powerful set of jaws.

"_Maleficent transforms most of her guards" Caleb explained. "Shapeshifting is her specialty. She's spent years trying to perfect the art. She's mastered manipulating her own form, but as you can see, she's yet to perfect changing others shape. It's a risky trade off, turning her men into beasts like this. They're stronger, and much harder to kill that regular soldiers, but they're far more difficult to control." _

The clash of steel on steel, of tusks on flesh and beaks on eyes pierced the night. Blood splattered in sheets across the courtyard floor, painting it a deep maroon. At the far end of the courtyard stood the ornate double doors that led inside. There stood a pair of ogres covered head to toe in crude steel plates. Unlike their brothers, they carried axes, and stood absolutely still despite the surrounding chaos. Every now and then a stone hurled by the trebuchets would hit them, but with their armor thick as it was the ogres shrugged them off with no difficulty, diverting the stones into rocky piles beside the doorway.

From amongst the fighting a crowd a single red soldier broke free and sprinted back towards the bridge. Leaping deftly over bits of the ruined gate he crossed the bridge and ran to the trebuchets. He removed his plumed helmet, revealing the face of Prince Charming.

"Any idea how to get to the doors?" he asked hurriedly, glancing over his shoulder at the battle he'd just left. Sweat streaked his face. Weariness shone in his eyes. "The doormen are taking the rocks like they're nothing!"

"They'll have to be cleared out the old fashioned way then, my lord" Geppetto told him as replaced a weakening plank in the left trebuchets' foot. "We'd aim for the wall above them, bring it crumbling down on top of them, but we're out of range, and we can't get any closer than this."

"Jolly day" Charming muttered harshly. He'd taken down ogres before, and it was no simple matter. Even without their armor, ogres' bodies were coated in thick layers of fatty tissue. He'd need at least twenty men just to take down one. And most of those men wouldn't come out of it alive. He glanced back at the battle once more. This front of the assault was mostly meant to be a distraction. The hope was that they'd draw the majority of the witches forces to the front while Emma, Snow, and Red tunneled inside. They couldn't keep the attack up for much longer though.

They didn't have nearly enough men, and they had fewer and fewer every minute. They would have to get inside though. While there were guards outside, there had to be more inside, and they were hardly being distracted if they weren't outside fighting. Emma and Snow couldn't be discovered. Stealth was the entire reason they were tunneling in, and despite their combat skills, there was simply no way they'd be able to both carry Henry out and defend themselves against an entire battalion at the same time.

Charming groaned. He'd have to take the ogres on himself. That wouldn't be fun at all.

But that was a price King James was willing to pay if it meant the safe return of his grandson.

"Grandson," he said to himself sadly. "Feels weird, saying that." A tear rolled down his dirty face.

"_It sounds wonderful" Snow whispered, tearing up herself. She'd gone through the same terrible realizations her husband was now, and she knew just how unbearable they were. _

Thinking of Henry and Emma should have brought him the greatest of joy. Yet when they crossed his mind, terrible, terrible sorrow filled his heart. The curse was broken now to an extent. They'd been returned to their rightful world. But they couldn't get back the thirty years the queen had stolen from them. His beautiful baby girl had grown up abandoned and alone, and had had to give up her own son in the same way her parents had given up her.

He and Snow had missed so much. Time had taken its toll on their hearts, and now they could do nothing but pick up the pieces. At least, if they were able to get those pieces back in the first place. Escape one evil witch, and you'd fall directly into another's waiting trap. So was the nature of Maleficents' kidnapping of Henry.

"Geppetto," he addressed the inventor as he put his helmet back on. "Can I ask you something before I head back?"

"Of course, my lord" Geppetto looked up from his work. "What is it?"

"What's it like to be a father?" he asked quietly, voice cracking. Gepetto walked to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Thinking about her, my lord? About Emma?" Charming nodded. He was full on crying now. The tears were hot and salty, and they logged the inside of his helmet.

"I held her all of a minute, I fall asleep, and now I wake up, and she's all grown up. She's….so, so beautiful. We missed everything. She has a son….she's a mother. And…the queen!" he barked, the title poison on his tongue. Great, racking sobs shook his shoulders, and the king found himself accepting the older man's comforting embrace. Gepetto was a good mentor. Years of friendship with Jiminy Cricket had left him with an abundance of wisdom, and the wisest thing to do now, the only thing to do now, was let it out. "She's ruined everything! She raised Henry as her own, she kept us all prisoner!...What can I do Gepetto?" he almost whimpered. "How can I be a father to her now? I…I have a grandson for Gods' sakes! How can I be a grandfather?"

"All you can do, my lord" the inventor told him. "Is love them. Love them with everything you have. That's all a parent can ever do, really. Even in these circumstances. Love them, and hope for the best. You'll be a wonderful father my lord, I'm sure of it." There was pain in his wizened eyes, and Charming felt a sudden rush of guilt at breaking down like this. Geppettos' own son, Pinocchio, was hidden away atop a tree in the forest, with Jiminy watching over him.

Effects from the curse still held on the little boy, and every so often bits of his body would revert to wood. What was worse, the boy had spent the entire exile in Storybrooke, alone. Unlike the others he hadn't been given an alternate identity. Instead he'd become a puppet once again, and had spent the last three decades as a lifeless marianet, completely conscious, on a shelf in Mr. Golds' Pawnshop.

The old inventor should have been weeping, hugging his son for as long he could. Yet instead he'd sent his son somewhere safe with a herbal drink to make him sleep the night away, and had come to help free Henry. He was an amazing man, Geppetto. Loyal to his friends almost to a fault.

"Thank you, Gepetto" Charming whispered. He readied his sword. "Start firing at the walls. Take some of the ogres down from on top. I'm taking the doormen myself. Good luck, my friend."

"Good luck, my lord" Geppetto said, giving the kings' shoulder a firm squeeze before returning to work.

_Watching this from the astral plane, Emma felt herself stiffen. A lump caught in her metaphysical throat. Charmings' words made her ache. And that made her uncomfortable. Since learning the truth she hadn't been able to look her new deputy in the eye. The only time she'd spoken to him directly had been a wise crack at the hospital that morning, and that had been mostly for Snow anyway. This man, who looked young enough to be her older brother, was her father. A man who she'd spent her whole life assuming was a worthless deadbeat who'd abandoned her. _

_Now, her father was a former coma patient who, despite his involvement with her roommate mother, she knew very little. She didn't really know him. And she certainly didn't know how she was supposed to feel about him. _

"_He loves you, Emma" Snow said quietly. "More than anything." Emma didn't respond. Snow hadn't expected her to. But still, her daughters' closed off nature made her sad. "You call him Pop, Caleb?" Snow asked, trying to bring some warmth back into the conversation. _

"_I do." _

"_That's what I called my grandfather when I was young. It fits Charming well, I have to say." _

"_Should I call him that too?" Henry chimed in. He sounded excited. _

"_Of course you should, kid" Caleb laughed. "I call him that, and you're me!" Emma gave a little chuckle. The kid could always make her smile. He was the reason she'd stayed in town after all. He was the reason she was here. _

Just as Charming was about to charge back over the bridge, something huge and furry shot past his knees. Then another. And then another. Then there were hundreds of them, four legged furry creatures pouring over the bridge and into the courtyard. Howls pierced the night.

"Wolves" Charming said aloud, dumbfounded. Wolves had decided to attack now? And in such great numbers? But it wasn't a hunting attack like he'd thought. As their attack began, they attacked only the shape-shifted guardsmen. Charming felt relief wash over him, and something like hope spark within him. The wolves were on their side.

The wolves tore into the battling crowd. Gnashing teeth and slashing claws ripped at the throats of Maleficents' men. There sudden arrival gave new life to the solders' movements. With others occupying their opponents, they had more room to move, and thus they were able to make full use of their weapons attack power. The wolves darted between the soldiers legs, tearing ligaments from legs, and herding the straggling beast warriors into the corners of the yard, where they were easily slain by the soldiers in red. Then, just as the last few stragglers were snuffed out of existence, the pack turned as one to face the ogre doormen.

The ogres finally moved. They exchanged a look, beady little eyes filling with something close to fear as their approaching enemies fanned out to surround them. Letting out roars of derision, the ogres raised their oversized axes, and charged at the wolves.

The axes' first sweeping attack was devastating. The massive double blades carved through the oncoming canines fur like a knife through hot butter. More than a dozen wolves fell to the ground, blood staining their gray coats. But wolves had indomitable fighting spirits. A few losses wouldn't deter them. The sweeping axe attack had left the ogres winded, and with their blades pulled to the side in recovery of the blow. And so the wolves lunged as one. Dozens and dozens of snapping jaws nosed their way between the steel armor plates, tearing at the fatty tissue that layered the ogre's bodies.

_Arienna screamed. The sight of blood repulsed her. Henry watched only more intently. This was like watching Lord of the Rings. But this was his grandfathers' battle, this was real. _

Gaping screams escaped the ogres as they were torn limb from limb. Their armored plates collapsed inward as razor sharp teeth devoured the structures supporting them. This went on for at least five full minutes. The ogres kept on screaming. The wolves kept on eating.

And then it was over. The last of the fatty tissue had been eaten, and all that remained of the doormen were two sets of armor, in two pools of dark, purplish blood.

Without preamble Charming sprinted across the courtyard towards the doors.

"Let's get them open!" he called to the soldiers as he passed.

"Yes, my Lord!" several of them cried in unison. They took up some of the large claymores that had been used by the shape-shifted warriors and made their way towards the door.

Charming reach them first. He gave the handles a preliminary tug. Naturally, they were barred tight from the other side. Just as the soldiers approached with the claymores, he heard it. A great thumping shook the door from within. Then again. And then a third time broke the door to splinters, launching bits of wood in all directions. Charming took a piece to the cheek and staggered back. From the now open portal a new battle poured. Shifted warriors dressed in green dueled soldiers in black, bearing the crest of an apple on their breasts. Charming gaped. _She_ was here.

"The queen is here!" he bellowed over the sounds of battle. Sword raised, he charged, cleaving his way into the keep. Wolves poured in around him. He had to get there first. The queen was here for Henry. He had to be there first.

"_The queen attacked from the other side" Caleb explained as the scene shifted once again. "She managed to slip some men in through a servant's entrance and they let the bulk of her forces inside. They didn't have much time to look for me though. Maleficents' men kept them far too busy for that. There were so many waiting for them, even the queen herself had to fight. She didn't like that much." _

The scene reformed into a long, dark tunnel deep beneath the earth. It was crudely dug, and only the barest of supports had been erected to prevent future collapsing. At the far end a lantern bobbed up and down with each strike of Grumpy's pickaxe. He, Emma, Red, Happy, and Sneezy all wielded the magic picks, their heads aglow with golden light that vibrated the air around them. Snow and Bashful stood off to the side pouring over a map scribed on velvety smooth parchment.

"Emma," she directed. "Dig about three feet lower. Is that right?" Bashful nodded shyly, blushing. "We're almost there."

Emma nodded and lowered the pickaxe by a few degrees. A fine layer of sweat coated her brow. It was hot underground. Especially here, because according the map Rumplestiltskin had provided, roughly thirty feet below them a channel of lava flowed southward from Mt. Tym. Perspiration soaked the fabric of her clothes. Those sure didn't help with the heat. She wore a pale blue tunic buckled around her waist, and a pair of riding breeches that hugged her legs tightly.

Around her torso was fastened a leather cuirass with iron bolts stamped in on the shoulders. A sword hung heavily at her waist, and a thick leather buckler fashioned from animal skins was strapped to her elbow. Everything on her felt unfamiliar and bulky. The pickaxes' magical vibrations shook her hands to the point it hurt. But not once did she complain.

"_You look awesome, Emma!" Henry said with full sincerity. This was really like one of his daydreams now. His school notebooks were full of stories like this, of him and his mother going on grand adventures, with sword fights, witches, and dragon slaying. In the memory, she looked exactly as he'd pictured her in the fairy tale world. A sword swinging warrior who kicked butt and saved the day. _

"_Thanks kid" Emma deadpanned. She wasn't quite as pleased with her appearance. In her eyes she looked less like a badass warrior and more like a renaissance fair reject._

"_She looks cooler in Wracken plate" Caleb put in. "It's full plate armor, but it only weighs a couple pounds. Special metal Doc came up with. Awesome." _

Snow was garbed similarly in a fur tunic and breeches. A pair of long curved knives were shoved behind her belt, and a quiet little blue bird sat placidly on her shoulder.

"For messages" Snow had said. Her affinity for blue birds apparently had uses beyond singing Disney songs in the forest. Red Riding Hood, as her name implied wore her iconic red hood hitched up slightly at the waist as to let her run freely without tripping. A long, curved bow and a quiver full of arrows hung beneath it.

Soon upon meeting Red, Emma had found the differences between her and her Storybrooke counterpart were rather jarring. Unlike Ruby, who dressed scantily enough to please even the purest of pubescent boys, Red dressed conservatively. She wore baggy breeches beneath her caped hood, and lacked the tendency to flirt with everything that moved.

However, both Red and Ruby had the same look of convicted determination in their eyes. The same fire about them. And though the differences were noticeable, when you shuffled their collective traits back together, it became clear they were the same person. That was what the curse did to you. It weakened your strengths and pulled your weaknesses to the surface.

"'Bout four more feet!" Bashful called. "Should I go ahead and get the sticks ready?"

"Yeah" Grumpy told his brother. He gestured to his companions. "You lot back away. I'll finish it off." Obediently the rest of them backed away from the opposite wall of the tunnel. Carefully Bashful folded up the map and reached into the rucksack at his feet. He pulled out a thin brown cylinder about two inches across. "Blasting stick," Grumpy explained at Emma's confused look. "Should get us through the last few feet or so. Might wanna stand back missy, and be ready. No telling where we'll come out."

Emma nodded. She set aside the pickaxe and shakily drew her sword. She'd complain about being called 'Missy' later. It was a weird sort of relationship she'd developed with the dwarves. They treated her like their niece, and they did have that gruff uncle look about them. But they, like her parents, were physically no more than five years older than her. Awkward.

Grumpy took one more swing with the magic pickaxe before setting it aside and pounding the blasting stick into a tiny crevice in the wall.

"Are you ready?" Snow asked her daughter. She drew one of her knives. Red knocked an arrow.

"No" Emma replied honestly. They were headed into a heavily guarded fortress, and her sword training consisted entirely of basic training Charming had given her over the last few days, and the B action movies she'd watched. By no means was she ready.

Grumpy lit the stick and stepped away. A few second passed, the fuse hissing as flames ate their way to the explosive.

BOOM!

In a cloud of dust the wall crumbled to pieces, shards flying all over. The sound from the explosion reverberated off the walls, filling the length of the tunnel with a loud ringing. Before any of the miners could move, a shadow shot from the dark end of the tunnel. It dove into the dust cloud, disappearing. Then more shadows came. Hairy, four legged creatures. Slowly the dust began to clear, revealing the passing of nearly three dozen wolves into one of the keep's many winding corridors.

A familiar wolf stopped in the newly cleared doorway. It was white, with a red eye and a black eye. It was staring at Emma.

"Wolves?" Snow and Red said confusedly. Reds' fingers tensed on the string of her bow. She had a bit of a prejudice against wolves. For obvious reasons.

"What the hell?" said Emma. What was a wolf doing here?

Cocking it's head to the side, the wolfs' nose twitched at the air, sniffing. Looking once again at Emma, it made a motion with it's shoulder and head, as if telling her to follow it. Sniffing again, it took a few steps toward the blonde, nose making contact with her hand. Then it turned and walked from the room.

"I think it….wants you to follow it" Snow said, hesitating. "But why is a pack of wolves here?"

Suddenly, the truth dawned on Emma.

"The white one, with the eyes…that was Graham's wolf. The one he was following before he died. What did you call it, Snow? A…a-"

"A familiar" Snow finished, eyes widening. She and Red exchanged a look. "It could-"

"Lead us to Henry" Emma finished.

"We'll follow it then" Snow decided. She tossed aside her pickaxe and drew her second knife, twirling it tween her fingers in preparation. "Grumpy, you and the boys stay here. Guard the tunnel. Make sure it stays clear for when we come back." The dwarf nodded.

"Got it."

"Let's go" Emma said, sounding almost breathless. Without waiting for a reply she darted out of the tunnel into the stone lined corridor of the keep. She was starting to feel desperate. Henry was here, in this tower filled with witches and monsters. She had to get him out. She needed to. That need was perhaps the only reason suddenly being thrust into this world of magic and fairy tales had driven her completely insane. Her son was in trouble. She didn't have time to go insane.

Torches burned along the walls, giving the place the faint smell of pinewood.

The sound of steel clanging on steel and the snarling of wolves could be heard ringing through the keep. At the end of the corridor the white wolf sat waiting. When Emma came into view, it turned and continued on its way. Emma followed, turning right.

Within a few moments Snow and Red caught up with her, weapons raised and ready to use. Ahead of them the wolf kept a decent pace, never growing more than thirty yards away in distance.

"Did Charming get inside?" Red asked, listening to the distant cries of men in battle. "Because if he didn't, who are the guards fighting?"

Mother and daughter exchanged glances. In a heartbeat they doubled the pace, full out running after the wolf. Red caught up in no time.

"My stepmother's here" Snow breathed harshly, bitterness in her words. "Hopefully Maleficent's cronies will have slowed her down. Come on!"

Sensing their desperation the wolf doubled his speed. They took three more turns through the keeps' winding innards before they entered a huge square chamber. The shattered remains of doors, pottery, and tapestries lay trampled beneath the feet of fighting soldiers.

Hundreds and hundreds of men were crowded inside. Some wore the black of the queens guard, others were Maleficent's twisted monstrosities. Bodies torn and bleeding were strewn about, limbs severed and heads rolling. Wolves ran around the perimiter, herding their enemies inward towards the rooms center with a few quick snaps of their teeth.

Amidst all this chaos the white ran along the right wall to a narrow set of stairs that winded upward.

Red let her arrow fly. It took a black armored soldier in the throat. He toppled to the floor. One of Snow's knives took another in the chest.

Together the two of them took off towards the stairs.

Breathing deeply, grip tightening on her sword, Emma followed.

Luckily for her nerves, and her lacking skills as a swordsman, only two opponents approach her on her way to the stairs. One lunged at her with a pike staff. She sidestepped the blow and slashed at his exposed back. Her motions were rigid and terrified.

The closest thing she'd ever done to this before had been taking down bail jumpers. But they'd never come at her with weapons before. They'd never tried to kill her. The second soldier in black came in wildly from the left. Raising the side of her blade to lock the blow, Emma slammed her elbow into his lightly armored stomach, and brought both swords down on his neck.

Her breath caught in her throat as she removed the bloodstained blade. Confidence grew within her. Maybe she could do this. Stepping over the corpses she narrowly avoided being drawn into battle once again. The crowd of swinging swords edged close, but with a quick leap she made it to the stairs without having to use her weapon again.

The three women marched up the stairs as fast as their feet would take them. The leather of their boots made soft clapping noises with each of their footfalls. Here fewer torches burned, and farther apart. They reached a wooden door at the top. No noise came from the room beyond.

Holding her knife as the be ready to dispatch any who might lurking just inside, Snow pushed the door open. No one jumped out at them. On the balls of their feet, the women padded inside. Snow and Red gasped at the sight. Emma didn't even gasp. Her hands began to shake. Tears started to pool in her eyes.

The room was huge and circular, with a domed ceiling that opened up to the sky outside. A raised dais stood at the center of the room, and on the dais stood something absolutely horrible. The shattered remnants of a mirror laid crumbled on one end. Before it was an empty pool rimmed with traces of gray gunk. And opposite the mirror Henry stood chained to an empty doorframe. A ghastly scar ran the length of one cheek. He hung limpy by the chains, his body pale and thin.

The wolf tried vainly to nibble through the chains. It looked to Emma.

"Dear Gods" Snow whispered. "The spell of duality...she's...she's made a wraith of him!" Red made the sign against evil across her forehead. Her granny's superstitions had stuck with her whether she knew it or not.

"Oh shit" Emma whispered. The sword fell from her hand and hit the ground with a loud clang. In less than a second she was at her sons' side, pressing two fingers to his neck. He had a pulse. He was breathing. That was good.

"E-Emma?" the boy whimpered. His eyes were half shut, barely focused.

"I'm here kid" she kissed his forehead, her tears falling into his shaggy hair. His skin was cold as ice. "It's all okay kid. We're here to get you out."

"...Knew you'd come, mom" he mewed. A tiny smile tugged at his lips. "Knew..." his head slumped forward.

_"That was the first time I called you mom," Caleb said. "It felt good, calling you that."_

_Though she said nothing, Emma's heart swelled. _

Snow tied a slip of paper to the her blue bird's leg.

"Take this to James. We're ready to pull out. Red," she tossed the girl a leather pouch from her belt. "Get his restraints off. We have to move. My stepmother could be here any moment." She turned to look at her grandsons' dischevelled form, and her heart broke instantly. Who could do this to a child?

"Right" said Red. She emptied the pouch into her hand, a fistful of small, meticulously crafted lockpicks. Kneeling before the boy she began work on the shackles binding his ankles to the frame.

Snow moved to her grandson and draped a part of her furred tunic around his shoulders. Tentatively, she reached out to touch his scarred cheek. The scabbing was black, and rustic. It looked infected, painful.

"He's been poisoned" she choked. "We'll have to take him straight to the fountain. Maleficent uses a serum that stops her venom from killing, but it wears off quickly."

"The Fountain?" Emma asked without looking up. Her attention was focused on her son. Hurt, vunerable. Was this what it felt like to be a mother? Being so scared for your child's safety that it physically hurt?

"James and I have fairy friends. They can heal him."

"Got it!" Red cried. The manacles clicked open. Catching the chains as they fell, she dumped the contorted mass of chainlinks and padlocks to the floor. Freed of his supports, Henry fell limply into his mothers arms.

_"I barely remember this part" Caleb commented. "I was barely conscious."_

Carrying him bridal style, Emma straightened to her feet. Now came the hard part. They had to get out. But she could hardly look away from her boy's mangled face. How could she escape when he was in so much pain? Yet there was nothing she could do for the time being. They had to leave.

Snow took the lead descending the stairs. Her knives were held out before her, ready. Red took up the rear with an arrow knocked and pulled back to her shoulder. The wolf walked beside Emma, occasionaly shooting protective look at Henry.

They reached the bottom step, expecting to be thrust back into the throng of battle. Instead, what awaited them in the square chamber was a massacre. Bodies of soldiers, black, green, and red, were smeared about the room like packets of human ketchup. Blood dripped from the ceiling above, and bones, splintered and broken, stuck out at strange angles from the bodies.

In the center of the blood bath stood the queen. Her trademark smugness melted away at the sight of Henry. Genuine concern washed over her face. Then it was gone just as fast it had come.

"I'm here to collect what's mine, Miss Swan" she said firmly. She lifted the sleek, black staff she carried. Magic crackled round its tip.

"Henry's not going anywhere with you" Emma shot back. The queens appearance had surprised her. Despite Henry having spent two years telling her Regina was the evil queen, she had never once imagined what she would look like in the black, fringed dress of a dark witch.

Red released her arrow. With a flick of the staff, the queen deflected it effortlessly.

"Please" Snow pleaded. "He's been poisoned. We have to get him out of here!"

"He will get out of here" the queen told her stepdaughter. "When he leaves with me."The glare she sent her could have cracked stone, filled with a hatred beyond comprehending. She raised the staff higher. "Give me my son, Miss Swan. Now."

Emma stepped back, pulling Henry tight against her chest.

"He's _my_ son. _Mine_. If half the crap they've told me about you is true, then you don't deserve to live, let alone raise a child. No, you're never touching him again. Ever."

The queen wasn't pleased.

"Very well, Miss Swan. If you insist we do this the hard way, I'm more than happy to oblige." Rapturous purple tendrils erupted from her finger tips. They twisted round in the air, and shot like daggers towards the three woman rescue party. As they neared Emma, the tendrils evaporated into violet dust. A high cackle broke the following silence.

_"Here's perhaps the only time I've ever seen the queen do something heroic" said Caleb. "Even one heroic deed seems like a lot for her, I know."_

The women turned to the eastern hallway, where a short, child like figure was entering the room.

It was Henry, completely naked. Paleness colored his skin a light shade of cream. The same scar marred his face, but on the wrong cheek, a mirror reflection, and he had vibrant orange eyes instead of blue. Spatters of blood speckled his naked body. In his hand he carried a claymore nearly twice his size. A manic grin filled his face, showing fanged canines. This wasn't Henry at all.

"Now, now your highness" he drawled. "You should know by now that won't effect her."

_"The purple tentacles thing, that's her drawing on whats left of the curse for power" Caleb explained. "She can use it to warp reality to some extent, but it won't work on you, Emma, you're immune. Won't work on the wraith either. I inherited the immunity from you, and he's a copy of me."_

"A wraith..."the queen whispered disbelievingly. "No. She-she didn't!" She whirrled to face her stepdaughter. "Tell me it's not true!"

"It is" Snow replied. "We found a duality spell set up upstairs...It's true" Her gaze was fixed on her grandson's shadowy doppleganger. Terrified. The wolf snarled, hackles shooting up.

"Snow" Emma stepped backwards. "What is that thing?"

"A wraith" Red explained, sounding disgusted. "A shadow made flesh. A dark copy of a living person. They're usually created to be assassins. Unless the person their copied from is killed, they can't die, they heal themselves."

"A trait of wraiths I'd like to test" said the queen. "Ravros!" thrusting her staff forward like a spear, she sent a bolt of condensed light straight at the orange eyed Henry. It took him straight in the chest, leaving a huge, bloody hole in his torso. The wraith winced a little.

"Now that's not very nice mother dear" he drawled. His voice was silken and soft. "Didn't anyone teach you manners?" At once the hole began to reseal itself. Veins shot across the hole, knitting the burned flesh back together. The wraith wiped a bit of blood off his stomach. Experimentally, he tasted it. "Guess I'll have to teach you myself."

At a speed so blinding he was nearly invisible, the wraith lunged at them, claymore lifted high above his head. The queens' reflexes were faster than she'd expected. Just before his attack reached them she errected a magical shield in front of her. The wraith hit it and went bouncing back twenty feet.

"Go!" she barked, preparing her staff to attack. "Get Henry healed. Go!" Emma didn't buy it.

"You're letting us take him?" The queen rolled her eyes.

"Were I to step aside, the wraith would butcher the whole lot of us. And besides, I can't leave right away regardless." Her expression darkened. "My dear friend Maleficent has much to answer for, making a wraith of my son. I have a dragon that needs slaying." She met Emma's gaze. "I'll be coming for him later. Know that, Miss Swan. Now go." Turning the queen leapt into battle against the wraith. From her staff burst a flurry of colorful bolts . The wraith dodged these with the lithe movements of a gymnast. He struck back with the ferocity of a demon. Bloodlust shone in those lamp like orange eyes.

Wasting no time, the rescue party rand down the adjacent hallways towards their escape tunnel.

_"Woah," Henry whispered. "I didn't see that coming."_

_"Me neither, kid" Emma agreed. Seeing Regina perform anything remotely good, such as holding the wraith off so they could escape, even if she did it for completely selfish reasons, was not something she ever expected to witness._

_"We're about done for the night. Just one more memory, I think." said Caleb. "Come on, let's go."_

_The keep faded out of existence, the shards of the scene broke free, and everything changed once again._

**Please Review!**


	13. The Fae Blooded

When the shards of memory finally resettled, the scene became a long winding tunnel. Tin lanterns hung in intervals along the walls, which were supported by thick wooden planks. Metal tracks ran the length of the tunnel, and here and there a cart stood abandoned.

_"These are the mines" Caleb told his audience. "Where dwarves hatch, live, and die. It's here they mine diamonds to crush for fairy dust. What most of the dwarves don't know is that at the heart of the mines lies the Fountain, the fairie's holy place."_

Beside the tracks a small group walked in haste, their footsteps quick and precise. Desperation clouded their faces. None of them spoke, and the only sound that broke the silence was the whimpering of a young boy.

Emma walked at the head of the pack, Henry squirming in her arms. A white scrap of gauze had been taped across his wounded cheek, but that did little to stop the burning sensations that webbed over his face. Snow and Charming were two paces behind her, close to tears with worry, and the dwarves took up the rear, occasionaly barking out directions to the party leader. They knew these tunnels well. Like most of their kind, they'd spent nearly the whole of their lives down here, mining away for the fairies.

_"When we left the keep, Pop sent Red to find his mother" Caleb narrated. Apart from the trek through the tunnels, there was little to watch at this point. "The queen had control of the kingdom, so it was only a matter of time before she went after her." _

_"Charming's mother?" Emma asked. She hadn't thought about her parents extended family. The queen was Snow's stepmother, but she was hardly family. Were there other royal relatives she'd yet to meet? She would have questioned further, but greater part of her attention was focused on the Henry in the memory, sobbing with pain. Even when the answer came, she was only half listening._

_"She lives on a farm in the country" Henry replied before Caleb could. "Pop's not a prince by blood, the king adopted his brother because he wanted a son, but the brother died, so Pop had to take his place. It was in the book" he added at the dumbfounded silence. _

_"Exactly," said Caleb. "Her, I actually call Grandma, she is my great-grandmother after all. Surprisingly, nothing went wrong when Red went to fetch her. Usually those kind of missions blow up in our faces. We had to get lucky sometime."_

_"Does Grumpy do well with...seeing a fairy again?" Snow asked hesitantly. "He's still hurting over what happened." _

_"He does as well as you could hope," Caleb answered. "When Red went to get Grandma, he wanted to go to, get away from it all. But he would've just slowed her down. No, don't worry to much about him. Things end up working for him and Nova, in the end at least."_

_"Nova?" Emma was really getting irritated not understanding any of what they were talking about. She'd seen her share of Disney flicks, but that didn't means she could name and identify any fairy tale character at the drop of a hat. _

_"The fairy Grumpy's in love with" Caleb explained. "They were going to run away and see the world together, but the Blue fairy and Bossy the dwarf convined them they had to stay where they were. Sad, really. It works out though. In both worlds. Grumpy gets the boat he wanted, and he and Nova get to see the world."_

"It hurts..." Henry cried pitifully. "It hurts." His head tossed about left and right, the venom taking it's painful toll on his face. His vision was blurred and clouded, and his arms struggled feebly against those carrying him.

"I know kid, I know" Emma soothed. Her hand moved to wipe sweat from his brow. "We're gonna get you all fixed up. You're gonna be fine." She looked back over her shoulder. "How much further is it?"

"Just under half a mile" said Charming. His sword bounced against his thigh with each stride. There were chinks peppered across his breast plate, torn bits of tunic poking out from beneath it. The battle had been a long and arguous one. They'd lost at least two dozen men, all of them good, strong, and brave. There names would be forever ingrained in Charming's mind, for it was because of them that they'd been able to rescue his grandson, and for that he was eternally grateful.

"Great" Emma muttered. Half a mile was nothing even on foot. But Henry was waining. Perhaps half a mile was just too far for him to make. The group approached a fork in the tunnel.

"Go left!" Grumpy called from the rear. "Then right at the next one. Fountain's right there, can't miss it!"

The dwarf's directions proved correct, because as they turned down the left fork, a strange, etheral light came into view, watching over the cavern walls like waves on the sea. A bluish-white aura hung about these tunnels, as if it were submerged underwater, or lit by blue colored torches.

"Why do fairies have there church underground anyway?" Emma asked her mother. "I always thought fairies lived in the forest."

"Some of them do" Snow answered. She reached over and cupped her grandson's cheek. His skin was hot to the touch. Sweat ran in rivulets across his body. "Most of them keep to their world, high above the clouds. Others live in the forest and tend the shrines there, and others stay here with the fountain year round. It's water is rich in fairy dust. To the fairies, it's the place where their goddess came down to earth. We got lucky. The Blue fairy herself tends the fountain this time of year, the solstice. Few are stronger in magic than she. Healing Henry should be no problem at all."

The group turned right at the second fork, and found themselves drowned in the strange blue light. Their footsteps found water that swayed and flowed up to their ankles. Despite her son's desperate condition, Emma couldn't help but let her jaw drop at the sight.

A huge, ovular shaped chamber, the Fountain's floor was covered in standing water. This was no ordinary water however. Fairy dust swirled in it's depths, eminating the strange blue light that illuminated the room.

At the chamber's far end stood an enormous statue of a woman, winged and beautiful, with water gushing forth from her outstretched hands. This was the fairy goddess of course, providing the earth with life giving water, infused with her own powerful magic. All around her fairies danced in the air. Most of them were tiny, no more than a few inches tall, giving off colorful dust streams as they propelled themselves through the motions, humanoid fireflys buzzing in the night. Their colors mixed and mingled with that of the water, casting a rainbow of insurmountable beauty on the ceiling high above.

Several fairies wore Sikan jewelry, jewelry that made them human sized for a time.

Three of such fairies knelt at the statues feet, heads bowed in prayer. A dark green robe draped the Blue Fairy's soldiers. Here, she was high priestess, first and formost among her people. At her right was knelt a her brother, the fairy king. His wings were folded behind him, and his pointed beard was wet with magic water. His wife sat at his sister's left. A tiny girl sat on her shoulder, wrapped in her long silken hair. It was Arienna.

_"This was where I met you, Arienna" Caleb said quietly. "In my timeline, I mean. That's why I woke you up before the rest of your people...you're probably the best friend I've ever had. For the next few years after this you spend most of your time either riding on my shoulder or hiding in my hair. It makes a good blanket, apparently. I couldn't deny mini-me of that, even though the time change means that things won't be exactly like they were for me. Hang on to her, kid" he told his younger self. "With that one around, things'll never be boring. Remember that."_

_"I will" Henry promised. He could feel Arienna's presence nearby, though there was nothing physical for him to see. Despite his own lack of a body, he felt himself blush._

"King James, Snow White" the Blue fairy said, looking up from her prayers. Above her the fairies stopped dancing. Their swirling colors spiraled downwards, and all eyes moved to the approaching group. Henry let out another whimper. A bit of spittle dripped from the side of his mouth. The Blue fairy frowned, her serene face etched with sorrow. Her eyes found the scar glistening on Henry's cheek. "What darkness has befallen you now, even when our thirty year nightmare has ended?"

"Maleficent" Snow answered hurriedly. "She kidnapped him from the castle tower a week ago."

"Can you help him?" Emma interrupted. She stepped forward into water, which sloshed up to her calves. Again Henry whimpered. Beneath the gauze his scar burned. "Please" Emma pleaded, arms shaking. The Blue fairy stared at her a moment. A half-smile tugged at her lips.

"Of course, Emma Swan. 'Tis because of you that we have returned to our world. And apart from that, your parents are ones I call friends. We will tend to your son." Flexing her left hand, she removed an opaque ring from her little finger. In the blink of an eye she shrank in size, from a woman of at least five feet, to one of seven inches. "Arienna" she said to her niece.

"Yes, aunt?" Arienna stood up on her mother's shoulder, bobbing a curtsy.

"Fetch some fairy dust. Two bushels full should do. Be hasty now, the boy's fading fast."

"Yes, aunt" the girl said obediently. She fluttered upward into the air and disappeared into a tiny doorway set high in the wall behind the statue of the goddess. Her parents, fairy king and queen, removed similar rings from their fingers and flew upward towards the exit, the fairy congregation following suit.

The Blue fairy liked her space when she worked, and only Arienna, her assistant, could approach her during a healing without displeasing her.

The Blue fairy floated out into the center of the room, toes skimming the water's surface.

"Bring him here child" she pointed to the spot below her. Emma obeyed and stepped out into the water. At the pool's center it reached her waist. She lifted her son so that he was floating on his back, her hands supporting him from beneath.

Using careful fingers, and a spark of magic the Blue fairy manipulated him so that he was floating freely, with his head held between his mother's hands. She looked up at the Fountain chamber door.

"Forgive me, your hignesses" she told her friends softly. "But I must ask that you step into the other room. Drawing venom such as Maleficent's requires deep concentration, and I can't be interrupted by any...emotional outbursts. I'll join you in the hall shortly. We have much to discuss as of late." That was an understatement. Hysteria gripped the fairy people, minds boggled by the sudden shift from Storybrooke back to their homeworld, with a second set of memories layered over the first. Similar predicaments had befallen all the peoples of all the realms. Careful planning had to be done. They had to figure out where everyone was, where armies were marching, and ultimately, how they were to take back the world from the queen's forces. War was coming. That was beyond denying. The only question remaining was when. The Blue fairy turned back to Emma. "You may stay, Emma Swan. I'll be needing your help very soon."

Charming opened his mouth to argue, but his wife cut him off.

"Of course" Snow said, sounding worried and flustered. She took her husband's hand and led him back out the door. "Come along, boys" she told the dwarves. "Let's see what supplies we can get together in the meantime."

Words couldn't properly describe how much it pained her to leave her grandson like this. He was in more than capable hands, but knowing he was there, so pained just one room away, would still leave her heart in agony. Reluctantly, the dwarves followed Snow out of the room, the white wolf on their heels. Grumpy stopped in the doorway, a glare full of resentment meeting the Blue fairy's gaze.

He'd never forgiven her for what she'd done to he and Nova's relationship. They'd been ready for a life together, full of adventure, of discovery, but the fairy teacher had crushed those dreams, and with them, Dreamy. Now only Grumpy remained, a shell of his former self, bitter, and full of regret.

Giving a grim nod, he left the doorway after his brothers. Now was no time for his bitterness. If the Blue fairy would save Snow's grandson, he could set aside his grudge.

Arienna returned with a pouch of pink fairy dust slung over her shoulder. She hovered down to her aunt's side, staring nervously at the pale boy floating beneath her.

"Sprinkle some on his chest" the Blue fairy commanded. Her wings came near to stopping, just barely beating enough to keep her in the air. Magic clouded her eyes, and faint sparks danced between her open fingers. Obeying, Arienna descended to stand on Henry's bare chest, only getting more nervous. She'd trained as her aunt's apprentice since the time she could fly, yet this was the first time she'd ever helped to heal such a severly sickened patient.

Colds, allergies, illnesses of the throat, those she'd done before. Those only required a small touch of magic, and perhaps a single grain of fairy dust to heal. But Maleficent's venom? Even her aunt had never healed that before. And that was because only a single person had ever lived through Maleficent's poisoning, Prince Phillip of the kingdom to the north, the fae blooded. The very thought of such a creature sent shivers across Arienna's tiny body.

A fae blooded was born when a fairy, in an utmost expression of heresy, gave up their magic to imbue it in a human being. The names of such fairies were never spoken again. Such fairies were blasphemous to the point their were considered dead and gone, a blight on the fairy people. For in giving up their magic, in giving to a human being, those fairies were reduced to nothingness. They were fairies no longer. They were fae, pale and decrepit, with just the slightest glimmer of magic left in them.

The goddess's blessing removed, their bodies grew to near-human size, while their muscles and bones remained the same. They could hardly move, and when they did, they were liable to shatter a limb with each step. A punishment more than befiting of their crime.

_Emma and Snow felt the astral plane shift around them. The scene stayed the same, but something surrounding their consciousness minds grew cold. They felt Henry and Arienna's presence stiffen, made less real somehow. _

_"I should probably say this now, before we get much further Nan" Caleb said. It had been he who'd shifted the plane, and cut the younger audience members temporarily out of the coversation. "Don't mention to Arienna or mini-me that I'm fae blooded. He won't know what it means, but she'll start flipping out, and I'd like to save the flipping out for some other night, when she finds out **how **it happened. That won't make it any easier, but maybe then...maybe then she won't me for it, and mini-me too by extension." _

_"What's a fae blooded?" Emma asked. Naturally, she was unfamiliar with the term._

_"A human who's been imbued with fairy magic" Caleb explained. "That's why my eyes look like they're full of mist. The name comes from the fact that when a fairy gives up their magic like that, they become a fae. Human sized, and much weaker than before. Their like elves, kind of. Fair skinned, and beautiful. Fairies don't see it that way though. They see fae as less than animals, as nothing. To them, fae are dead, and not worth acknowledging at all."_

_"That's terrible" Emma said. It sounded worse than the foster care system. Individuals cast out alone to die, forgotten and unloved by all. "How'd you become one? Why'd a fairy do that to you?"_

_"For me" Caleb corrected hurridly. "And it's a long story. We'll get to it later. Just please, don't mention it until i bring it up, okay?"_

_"Alright" Emma agreed. There was no obvious harm in hiding certain things from the kids. She didn't know what he was talking about really, so she couldn't really say otherwise with any authority. _

_"Of course" said Snow. _

_"Thanks. Now let's get back to it, shall we?"_

Carefully, Arienna paced about Henry's chest, letting trails of dust fall between her fingers. The pinkish grains were like makeup on his skin, coating it in a thin layer of sandy textured coloring. With her pouch empty the princess retreated to hover above the boy's shoulder. She didn't want to get in the way.

Touching down beside her niece, the Blue fairy stepped out onto Henry's dusty chest. Tendrils of energy, faint, like cobwebs caught in a breeze, connected each of her finger tips. She raised a hand.

"I'm going to start purging the poison from his system" she told Emma solemnly. "He'll be roused to full consciousness. It's a quite...painful process, but it must be done. Talk to him, keep him preoocupied. Can you do that?" Emma nodded.

"I'll try" her voice was cracked and tired. Though her hands were still, her shoulders still trembled with worry. Henry felt so cold, like ice made flesh. Grime matted his shaggy locks, brushing over his eyes. The scar was sickening to look at. A jagged scabbed line dripping poison into her boy's body. Bile rose in Emma's gullot.

"Very well" said the Blue fairy. "I will begin then."

The lightning arched from between her fingers and shot down at Henry's chest. It hit the fairy dust silently, sending pulses of light across the dust covered chest. For a few moments the lightning dripped across the dust, illuminating the room in a green shroud of light. Beneath the dust, Henry's veins became visible under his skin. The movement of blood could be seen pass throughout his body, his heart a shuddering core, slowing as th poison approached. Black speckled the blood stream, it's thickest concentration directly beneath the scar.

Henry's half closed eyes fluttered open. He blinked, focusing on the strange, winged girl floating before him. His eyes were glazed over with weariness and sickness.

"Are you an angel?" he asked very quietly. The world around him was a transleuscent blur, fading in and out of focus with each breath he took.

_"Awww" Snow and Arienna cooed as one. Emma laughed. That was just the kind of thing the kid would ask. Something cheesy, and straight out of the storybooks. Henry didn't speak. These memories weren't as great as he'd thought they would be. Sure, they featured he and his family on a variety of sword swinging, curse breaking adventures, but half the time he was either dying or being unfanthomably embarassed. _

_Caleb sighed. He'd forgotten about that._

_"That's adorable, Caleb" Snow told him reassuringly, giggling a little. "Even if it is a bit corny."_

_"To be fair" Caleb deadpanned. "I was on the brink on death when I said that. For all I knew I'd died and gone to heaven. That and Maleficent's venom is some powerful stuff. If it weren't deadly, it'd be the best hallucogen in either world." _

_"Do I really look like an angel?" Arienna asked, ignoring Caleb completely. Her more prudish side, the side of her that had taken in the customary arrogance that came with being royalty, would have been delighted to claim such a thing. Angels made fairies pale in comparison, with feathered wings white as the snow, and beauty chisseled out by the Goddess. _

_"A bit" Henry said before he could stop himself. "I've never met any angels, but you're pretty enough to be one." The metaphysical blush almost consumed him entirely, and Arienna along with him. _

"No," the princess whispered, startled at his sudden signs of life. "I'm...I'm a fairy"

"A fairy?" he mumbled drearily. Prickles of pain had kept him semi conscious throughout his trip to the Fountain, but the pain of his healing had yet to sink in. Confusedly, and only half coherent, he gazed about the chamber. "Where am I?"

"The Fountain, kid" Emma said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He wasn't better yet, yet his speech alone was enough to make her tear up with relief. "The fairies are gonna help make you better."

"Emma?" he mewed, mroe high pitched than he would ever admit he was capable of. From the angled his head was positioned, he couldn't see her. "Are you there?" Almost frantically he twisted his head to look around. His mother stopped him, holding his head steady.

"I'm right here, kid." She leaned forward so her face was directly above his. "I'm right here."

"Emma" he said her name again, gazing up at her with a look of pure, innocent faith. A look that said he would believe anything she said. The ghost of a smile curved his lips. "Told you so..." he mumbled. Emma laughed shakily. Tears fell from her eyes.

"I guess you did" she laughed again, a shrill bark of relieved uneasiness. "I owe you a hot chocolate, don't I?"

"With cinnamon" Henry added, still smiling.

"Of course," Emma agreed. In that moment he could have asked for anything, and she'd of given it to him no matter what it was. Again she ran a tender hand through his hair. It had never quite sunken in before how much she cared for her son. From the beginning she knew that she loved him. Hell, he was the only person she was sure she loved. But it had taken a scenario like this, in which he'd been kidnapped poisoned and nearly killed, for the sheer reality of what losing him would do to her to be made clear.

It would destroy her. Beyond repair. Beyond even the comforting of Snow White, whose compassionate heart could melt the hearts of hardened thieves and ruffians. She loved him more than anything. And the simple fact that he was alive made her want to praise the heavens in all their glory.

Then, as the Blue fairies spell began to take effect, the pain came. A scream unlike anything Emma had ever heard escaped her son's mouth. Specks of black, like tiny flakes of shaved metal, began to pop out of Henry's exposed skin. The poison had been in his system for several days, and had begun to solidify.

_"I was lucky I got to the Fountain when I did" Caleb said. "Any longer, and they might not have been able to help me. Most of this is a blur to me, really. My brain shut out most of the memories 'cause of the pain. Sorry if the picture quality drops a bit." _

Again Henry screamed, a shrilly pitched, agonized scream. The flakes of poison drifted upward and began to gather in a big black ball, a miniature planet of metallic shavings. Emma took his right hand in hers, letting him squeeze to alleviate the pain. His tomy nails dug into her palm, soon drawing blood.

"It hurts!" he wailed. Sweat drenched his face. Hot, salty tears poured from his eyes. Emma was almost crying too. This was more than she could take. Far more.

"Keep him awake!" the Blue fairy barked. Stark concentration strained on her expression. Maleficent's poison was powerful magic, almost beyond her own. "If he slips unconscious now, he may very well not wake up at all!" Emma grew only closer to tears. Swallowing the walnut sized lump forming in her throat, she reached out and cupped Henry's cheek.

"Hey" she soothed, wiping away some of the sweat. "It's alright. Everything's gonna be alright."

"It hurts..." he whimpered again.

"I know kid, I know. It'll all be over soon, I promise." Again she wiped away the perspiration. It was flowing like a river now. "Hey" she said, an idea forming in her brain. A tiny smile tugged at her lips. "Did I ever tell you about my last Halloween, when I was twelve?" That got his attention. Still full of pain, his blue eyes looked up into her, curious. A dependable way to get Henry's attention was a story. Stories were his thing, he loved them, from books to fairy tales to movies.

"No" he whispered. His tiny smiled matched his mothers. "What happened?"

"It was at my fifth foster home, the Luellons. They were nice enough, but they had three kids of their own, so they wouldn't be keeping me long. Anyway, on Halloween they let me go out trick or treating for as late as I wanted, on the condition I take their seven years old twins around the block first. Seems easy enough, right? I take a bunch of kids to get candy, and then the night's mine. "

"What were you dressed as?" Henry asked. The familiar wistfulness had returned to his voice. It was strained, and still mingled with tears, but it was wistful nonetheless.

"Princess Leia" Henry giggled. It was hard to imagine Emma with the classic hair buns. "It was the best thing the second hand costume store had," Emma defended. "Much better than the year before. I got stuck as the tooth fairy. Anyway, I took the kids around the block, everything was going great, until a bunch of ninth graders jumped us. They were twice my size, so all I got out of the trip was a pair of crying seven year old and a black eye. I wasn't too happy about that. So an hour later, I went back out and gave them a piece of their own medicine."

"Whatcha do?" Emma grinned.

"Replaced their candy bags with bags of stink pellets wrapped in old candy wrappers when they went to talk to a bunch of girls. They didn't stop puking til two in the morning. Best Halloween ever."

_Henry and Arienna laughed hysterically in the astral plane. _

_"Did you really do that?" Snow asked her daughter. It sounded like something she would've done as a child. Underneath her kind personality lay a dormant firecracker, one that didn't take kindly to bullies._

_"Yeah" Emma shrugged. "They had it coming. I mean, who mugs seven year olds for their candy?"_

Henry laughed so hard he ended up in a spluttering string of coughs.

"That's awesome, mom." Emma's face went white, and Henry immediately regretted saying it, as much as he liked saying it.

"I'm sorry" he said quickly.

"No, it's...it's okay" Emma stammered, stiff as a board. "It's just...new."

"You are my mom" he added, very quietly. "The queen doesn't get to pretend anymore. You...you saved my life. You came to get me out. You're my friend, you...you actually know me, not like she did. Emma, you are my mom. You are."

_Even deep within the astral plan Emma felt herself pale. She loved the kid more than anything. But...being a mother was something she'd never pictured herself being. She'd never had a mother, how could she be a good one herself?_

_"Can I call you that?" Henry asked just as quietly as his memory counterpart. Emma went even stiffer. She wanted to say yes. But something in her throat, in her chest, just wouldn't let her. "It's okay" he said after a moment. "You're not ready. I understand." _

Before Emma could say anything, before she could even feel anything in response to his heartfelt speech, a raspy cough thundered out of the boys throat. Driblets of blood speckled his pale chest, staining the Blue fairy's robes. A loud hissing noise sounded as black lines began to form over Henry's stomach. They were of a strange, goopy substance, like tar. They branched like a spiderweb over his stomach, twisting their way slowly towards the back of his torso.

"What is this!" Emma screamed. Genuine shock showed on the Blue fairy's face. A powerful twitch racked Henry's body as the branches spread further.

_"Don't worry" Caleb assured his audience. "I end up perfectly fine. It's just a magical sickness that comes from being in a new world. My body isn't used to the fairy tale world, I get better in no time." _

The Blue fairy however, knew nothing about this mysterious illness or it's side effects.

"Arienna" she ordered, rising off Henry's chest. "Prepare a Kemigree between the boy and his mother. We need to keep his mind intact while I investigate. Quickly girl quickly!"

Obeying at once, Arienna took a handful of fairy dust and drew a pentacle on both Emma and Henry's foreheads.

_"It works on the forehead better" Caleb explained. "But I had ours put on the back of the neck so they aren't as obvious. Harder to notice. They're using a Kemigree so you can keep my mind from slipping away." _

"Be prepared Emma Swan" the Blue fairy cautioned the human woman. "Kemigree is dangerous when controlled by an untrained mind. Keep focused." She said the incantation, and suddenly the scene dissolved.

_"Why did it end?" Henry asked after a moment of silence. _

_"'Cause I can't show you a Kemigree within a Kemigree, kid." Caleb told him. "This isn't Inception." Emma knew at once that was a lie. He could show them. But for some reason, he wasn't. Was he trying to preserve her privacy somehow? To keep others out of her memories? "After this" Caleb continued. "I woke up in the refugee room down the hall. People who live in the forest are hiding from the queen's forces. That's when I meet up with Hansel, Gretel, and Jack. They become my crew, you know. My best friends. Good God, we got in and out of some crazy shit together during the war. Breaking into towers, stealth missions, battles. They're my mission for ya, kid. You too, Arienna. Though not directly. Tomorrow at school sit with them at lunch. Get to know them, slowly start dropping hints to try to make them remember. We'll need all the help we can get, and they're more than capable. Can you do that for me, guys?"_

_"Yeah" said Henry enthusiastically. He was being given a Cobra mission, that was awesome. Really awesome. _

_"Of course" agreed Arienna. She was anxious to meet new people in this world. Being a fairy princess gave her a lot of power, but it didn't make her many friends. _

_"Then go get some sleep, you guys. I'll pull you back into the Kemigree tomorrow night. I'm gonna start teaching you how to fight, kid. I'm not as good a sword teacher as Pop is, but we'll make do with what we have." That Henry found even more awesome. He was going to learn how to use a sword? Sweet! "I gotta give Emma and Nan a few orders, I've got stuff they need to start working on for Operation Cobra, so we'll be here a few more minutes. Goodnight, kid. Night Arienna."_

_"Goodnight" Henry said. Suddenly he realized how tired he was. The dream world was exhausting._

_"Night, kid" Emma said. Suspicion filled her. Caleb was up to something. It was the first lie she'd heard him tell. Why though?_

_Henry and Arienna's presence faded away. They'd be a sleep now in Henry's room, returned to a regularly induced sleep with regular dreams. A long silence followed their departure. _

_"So" Caleb began awkwardly. Emma imagined him scratching the back of his head. " I guess you want me to explain why I lied, huh?"_

_"Yeah, pretty much" Emma agreed. Caleb sighed. _

_"They're your memories in that Kemigree. I had no right to show 'em to younger me. That day, you sort of lost control of the spell. Kemigree is hard enough to control when you're focused, but when you're in emotional turmoil, like when you're son is dying, it's nigh impossible. You weren't in control of the dream plane. I...I saw a lot on accident that day. Took me a while to realize that they were your memories and not just crazy dreams of mine. I saw a lot of your past. Your foster homes, your high school life. My father...that's actually how I found out about him. Might wanna tell little me about that soon. It'll only get worse with time._

_"You...you saw-" had she hands, Emma would have buried her face in them as deep as they'd go. "Oh shit." There were more than a few things in her past that she wasn't proud of. Henry's father, for one thing. Getting knocked up by a scumbag. But there were other things, things she'd never intended for her son to know. _

_"Don't worry" Caleb soothed. "Do you honestly think I'd think any less of you just because I've seen your past? You're my mom, Emma, and I love you. It's a miracle you know, the way you turned out. You went through the hell that is the foster care system, dealt with some of the worst people this world has to offer, and yet you still turned out a good person with a kind heart. Sure, you can be a bit of a hardass sometimes, but who isn't?"_

_"It's true, Emma" said Snow. "What I regret more than anything else is that you had to grow up without me and your father. But you still turned out well. You're a wonderful, beautiful woman, Emma. Your past is in the past. You have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart."_

_"Nothing more to be ashamed of than I do" Caleb put in. "I'm nineteen, but I've been at war since I was twelve. I've done some things I'm not proud of...I've killed people. That's part of the reason I sent little me away. He doesn't need to see himself kill people. He's not ready for that. It was necessary, it was war, and sometimes killing is necessary in war, but like Jiminy's told me, just because it's necessary doesn't mean it's right. Hehe, Archie's one hell of a therapist. Even as a cricket. Morally speaking, he can't steer you wrong." _

_Yet another uneasy silence fell. Humiliated shame was all Emma could feel. Her past had always been something she'd been able to hide away and keep to herself. Now it was out in the open. Caleb had showed he and Henry's cheesy streak again. It was like he came straight out of a Disney flick, ready to give an inspirational speech at the drop of a hat. This paticular speech had helped a little bit. But it brought with it unsettling implications. Caleb-and Henry, were the last person, except perhaps for Snow, who she could imagine killing someone. _

_Fighting in an epic fantasy war, yes. Actually taking a life, no. Apparently, showing his considerable talent with charisma, Caleb had meant for her to think such thoughts. Because he used them to deftly change the subject away from her past. Clever boy._

_"That's not the only reason I sent the kids off to bed" Caleb said. "My past, the things I've done. But there's some stuff in my memories they just don't need to know yet. It could scare them, or make them angry when they find out about this stuff." He took a breath. "Like how I became a fae blooded. Arienna's the fairy who made me one. When I was fourteen. _

_Snow gasped. Caleb being a fae blooded implied that a fairy had given up their wings to make him so. But the fairy princess? That would leave Arienna disowned, and the chain of succesion broken, with no blood heir remaining for the fairy throne. No wonder Caleb didn't want her to know yet. She'd be devastated._

_"How?" she asked. "Why would she do that?"_

_"Because I did something stupid and almost got myself killed" Caleb replied bitterly. The bitterness was for himself, and his own actions, not for Snow. "Embarassing as it is to admit, almost dying is sort of a hobby of mine. I've been on the brink of death at least four times. This time was the second." He sighed. "You probably already guessed Nan, that me and Arienna aren't just 'best friends' in my timeline. It's obvious, isn't it? The way I look at her? I was in love with her. And for some reason, she loved me back. With her as a fae, we didn't have the size difference problem, but it meant her family abandoning her. Good God, the crap that girl's put up with from me. I was going t marry her too. Had the ring and everything. But the queen took her from...killed her. Here" the Kemigree began to shift again, glass like shards starting to form another scene. "May as well show you while were here. Not my finest hour, this one."_

When the shards came back together, the scene was a vast expanse of desert. Golden sand formed dunes that criss crossed over the landscape, waves of mineral breaking like those on the sea. The sun was a sweltering yellow orb in the sky. Wavy lines hung in the air. It was the dry season, so the heat was beyond belief.

Atop one of the dunes, which was the size of a small two story building and curved like a wave towards the top, three figures trunged along through the sands. Thick gray cloaks were tied about their necks, designed to keep the sand from their faces.

Leading the group was Henry, about fourteen years old. The coming of adolescence had added a few more inches to his height, and his shoulders had started to broaden outward. The scar was still clear on his cheek, a foreign red line across what was otherwise a fairly handsome face. Beneath his cloak he wore a suit of armor. Half plate, half the metal plating a full grown adult would wear, with chainmail underneath. A sword hung at his hip, bouncing with each stride.

Behind him followed two other teenagers, a boy and a girl. The girl was Gretel. Age had added womanly curves to her form, as well as an increased height. Her long blonde hair was tucked into a single braid behind her ear. A bow and a quiver full of arrows were strapped to her shoulder, along with a pair of perfectly crafted hunting knives. Around her neck her fathers compass hung by a chain. She took it with her everywhere. It always led her back home.

Taking up the rear was Jack, of Jack and the beanstalk. The oldest of the group at fifteen and a half, Jack towered over both his companions by at least a head. He wore a studded cuircass beneath his cloak, and various pouches hung at his belt beside a steel short sword. Swift on his feet, a natural climber, and with the skills of a master thief, Jack was deadly in combat. Most enemies never even saw him coming.  
><em><br>"About two years after the last memory" Caleb began. "The war is in full swing. Emma, you and the rest of the army are on the desert's other side, besieging the city of Agrabah. The queen held herself up there, and she managed to get a dome shield around the city. We couldn't get the troops inside. That's why me and the crew are here. We went to find the counter curse in an old library back in Thomas's kingdom. We went on a lot of missions like this together. We're a small group, and we were probably the best trained kids in all the realm. Most people didn't see us as a threat, and that only helped us get the jobs done. With the shield out of the way, we took Agrabah in a manner of hours."_

_"Where's Hansel?" Snow asked. His absense seemed odd. Though she'd never met the twins during her life in fairy tale world, during her time as Mary Margaret, she'd read there story more than once. She couldn't remember a single instance where one was present without the other. _

_"Dead" Caleb answered sadly. "About a year before this. The queen's guards attacked the army camp during the night. He took a crossbow bolt to the temple, pushing his sister out of the way. Gretel didn't speak to anyone for a month. Not even her father...Hansel's was the first funeral I ever went to. He was the first friend I lost. The first of many."_

"We're going the right direction" she said. "Just like the last three times you asked me." Jack grinned again. He loved teasing her, annoying her in whatever liuttle wayts he could manage.

"What do you think, Henry?" he asked the younger boy. "You smell anything different?"

_"Smell?" Emma asked, confused. "How would smelling anything help you?_

_"My connection to the wolves gave me better senses." Caleb explained. "Better sight, better hearing, better smell, faster legs. Red helped learn to use them, how to hunt, track, and use the senses to my advantage."_

_"Red? As in Riding hood?" How could Red help him control any of that?_

_"She's a werewolf. She's also the big bad wolf. Her hood is enchanted to keep her from turning during the full moon. She helped me control the wolf urges I have. The urge to bite, to hunt, to kill. She was like my big sister, really." Emma blinked. Werewolves existed now too? What was next, oompa loompas?_

Nose crinkling, Henry sniffed at the heavy desert air. He pointed West.

"There's people in that direction. But it smells different...weird. Guess it must be a regional thing."

"Whatever it smells like it has to be better than in here." Arienna popped out of the top of his cloak, holding her nose in disgust. "You're sweating up a storm down there, Henry! First thing's first when we get to Agrabah, you're taking a bath. I'm not riding with you anymore if you don't."

Henry laughed. She'd made threats to leave before. She'd never followed through with them though. Probably never would.

"Yes ma'am" he chuckled. He pulled a waterskin from his belt and turned to his friends. "You guys ready to take another rest? I could use some water." The pair agreed, and soon the trio, with Arienna floating between them, were sprawled out in the sand letting water trickle into their mouths.

"Think we have enough to make the trip?" Gretel asked. She nudged her leather bag which contained their extra water skins. They'd spent most of their gold on water before starting out on this trip.

"We should" said Jack, taking a gulp. "As long as we dont over do it. And even if we do run out, my da showed me how to get water from a cactus if we have to." He peered around as if looking for something. "Do you think we'll run into any Maws?"

"Maws?" Henry asked. Gretel nodded.

"Giant worms that live beneath the sand. Supposedly they have steel skin, and were made by the ancient dwarves thousands of years ago. Don't get your hopes up Jack, Maws are just a myth." Jack pouted. He'd wanted to add Maws to the list of monsters he'd slain. The list grew longer everyday. Gretel smirked. "Come on Jack. Weren't the trolls and ogres from two weeks ago enough for you?"

"Almost" he conceeded. "But trolls and ogres are stupid. I want a real challenge for once!"

"You'll get plenty of a challenge once we get to Agrabah" said Henry. "Their priests are supposed to be really good fighters. With scimitars, curved swords, and coated in poison from their snakes. Hey Ari, have you looked at the counter spell at all? Can you do it, or will we need your aunts help to cast ths one?"

Arienna opened her mouth to speak, but a voice cut her off.

"Mind if I join the party, everyone?" the voice drawled from nowhere. Suddenly, a black swath of energy slammed into the dune beneath them. Arienna spiraled wildly out of the way, and Gretel and Jack found themselves propelled back fifty feet off of the dune. Henry felt the full force of the impact hit his chest, driving his downward into the ground. Coughing, he dusted himself of sand. He looked up, and his heart sank.

The wraith stood above him, orange eyes menacing as ever. He was armored as well, and held a sword.

"Shade" Henry hissed, jumping to his feet. His sword was drawn in a heartbeat. "What are you doing here?"

"Coming to see if you earned tha blade" he pointed to the heron engraved on Henry's blade. "A bladmaster, that's impressive for someone our age. Very impressive."

Shade stepped to the side to avoid Gretel's arrow taking him in the chest. She and Jack were sprinting back towards them, ready to join the fight.

"Nice shot, girl" Shade called. "But I'm afraid this is a private matter." He threw up a hand and a shimmering black barrier, a forcefield, formed a circular arena around he and his counterpart. Arienna hit it repeatedly with magic, but her attacks just bounced off like they were nothing. Henry grimaced. The barrier kept his friend's voices out as well. He could see them yelling, but he couldn't here the. They couldnt cheer them on in this fight.

The two combatants met at the aren's center, blades coming together in a clash of steel. Henry spun to the left, slashing wide at Shade's opposite shoulder. Shade dodged easily, deflecting the blow and coming back at him with a series of quick thrusts.

Again and again they repeated the same process. Henry tried a high attack, Shade would drop down low at swipe at his shins. One swipe nicked him just above his boot. It was just a flesh wound, no real harm done. Lunging forward with his own thrust, Henry started worked his blade as fast as he could. He swiped and slashed at the wraith from every direction he could. He even managed to hit Shade twice below the elbow. But within moments the wraith started to regenerate, flesh knitting itself back together.

As the fight progress the pair began a dancing duel around the arena's perimiter. Parry, slash, stab, parry, slash, stab, they went back and forth, back and forth. To any onlooker, it would look beautiful. An elegant dance with blades. Fanged teeth smirking, Shade rolled backward so that there was ten yard distance between he and Henry.

"You've gotten good, Henry boy. Very good. You've earned that Heron. But are you go enough to fight shadows themselves?" He flung a hand forward, and from his fingertips erupted a series of black shards, like glass, or fractured arrow heads.

Caught by surprise, Henry managed to deflect the first wave of attacks. It wasn't hard. The side of his blade was more than wide enough to block them. But soon the attacks pace quickened, and he had to use every ounce of energy he had just to avoid being hit.

"Getting tired Henry?" Shade mocked, stepping closer, shards firing even faster. "I'll hit you eventually you know. Can't block me forever."

_"Here's where I do something stupid" said Caleb. "I know he's right, so I try to attack him directly, hurt him enough so that he can't regenerate, or at least enough so that his shield drops. Doesn't really work out." _

Throwing caution to the wind, Henry dropped his guard and charged his dark copy head on. Black shards shinked off his armor and tore at his arms, but he kept on going, and with one almight thrust he ran his sword straight through Shade's chest. The magic attack ceased. Shade smirked.

"You die, I die, henry boy" and with that he brought his own sword upward into Henry's ribcage. Henry gasped as white hot pain filled him. Shade disappeared, his existence temporarily disturbed by Henry's being so injured.

He tumbled backward onto the ground, blood pooling in his side. A desperate gasp escaped his throat. He'd punctured a lung.

The memory grew white and distorted, the sand dunes becomes vague blobs. With the wraith's shield down, Jack and Gretel rushed to his side. They pressed cloth to his wounds, telling him to hang on. But he could barely hear them. His senses were all but gone. He was dying, he knew.

_"Here it comes" said Caleb._

Amidst the disintegrating memory, Arienna's tiny form could be seen descending onto Henry's chest, looking grim. She pulled aside his armor, and pressed her hands to his skin. Then she began to sing. It was beautiful. Elven was a beautiful language, and Arienn'a voice only made it sound better.

A pillar of pure white light shot upward into the sky. Arienna collapsed, her body began growing rapidly.

The memory began to resolidfy. Henry's body began to knit itself back together. His eyes became misted and cloudy. Gulping down a breath, he sat up, fire flickering above his palm.

A few feet away, Arienna lay, naked, human sized. A fae. Unspeakable horror took hold of Henry's face.

"Why would you do that?" he asked abrely above a whisper.

"I wanted you safe" Arienna mewed even quieter. Her skin was pale, and her body was thin and bony. "I couldn't let you die."

Then the memory ended, and Caleb spoke to his audience.

_"That's how it happened. We managed to get her to Agrabah with the spell, but there was nothing that could be done with her. She was a fae, her family wouldnt speak to her again. and it was all my fault..." he trailed off, gathering his thoughts, regret and sadness resonant in his tone. "Look, I'll show you more tomorrow night, I'll start training you to use a sword too, Emma. But we all need to get some sleep. We have important things to do. I have stuff for you to two to do tomorrow, stuff to further my plans, help get certain people to start remembering. Listen carefully, 'cause this gets kind of complicated"_


	14. The Interlude

Regina loathed having to ask for help. Requesting aid impied there was something you couldn't do for yourself, and that implied weakness. It wasn't at all like giving orders. Sydney, being the well trained lapdog of a magic mirror that he was, would carry out her instructions even if it meant his own destruction.

An order given to a subordinate would be followed without question or payment. A request for help on the otherhand implied a deal between equals, between friends, that would require something in return. Regina had observed enough of Gold's deals to know just how disastrous being in someone's debt could be. Debts bound you to a person, bound you beneath them, with the debt like a leash and collar around your throat.

As such, Regina avoided owing debts like the plague. Usually. But now the situation demanded she enlist the help of others, as much as she despised doing so.

Something was amiss in Storybrooke. Memories were starting to return, people were breaking out of the routines they'd followed for twenty-eight years, and the clock at the town's heart had started to turn. A strange, foreign power had arisen to threaten the queen's carefully constructed world.

A time traveller had come, a version of her son aged and turned against her, and there was no doubt in her mind that Rumpelstiltskin had something to do with it. The web of lies,magic and deals had been pulled taut, and Regina would need help squeezing through.

She sat in her darkened sitting room, a glass of apple wine perched in her fingers. Henry was asleep in his room, thankfully. There was no telling what he'd think should he overhear this little meeting. He'd already branded her the evil queen. She didn't need him finding proof. A variety of chairs were spaced around the room, with a glass coffee table placed in the middle.

It had been nearly ten years since they'd all been filled at once, since she'd last had to call Storybrooke's resident villains to council. That had been when she'd adopted Henry, something the majority of her allies had been dead set against.

"The child will be nothing but a liability, Regina" Jafar had told her all those years ago, fingering the snake-head ring on his finger, high set eyes glowing in the firelight. "Dispose of him now, before you grow attached."

Most of the congregation had murmured their agreement, including the Troll King, whose stubborn nature made him a born contrarian. Regina had ignored their sentiments of course. She'd wanted a child, and a child she would get. Her allies had been less than pleased. That was why she couldn't call any of _them _for help. Were they to discover Caleb Montori's identity, they'd demand Henry's head on a platter.

The two coming to meet Regina tonight would do no such thing. They were her friends, or at least one of them was her friend, while the other was a close acquaintance at most. And despite the fact that Jafar's skill set would be ideal for this particular scenario, with his snake like ways and silver tongue, the pair's talents would more than suffice. That, and should worse come to worse and one of them rebelled against her, they'd be easy enough to squash like insects. Regina liked to befriend those with power, but with lesser powers than her own.

Just then the sitting room doors swung open and the pair of witches entered.

"Regina, darling" Melanie Harver, or Maleficent, greeted with a warm smile. She was dressed in a long blue dress that fell to her knees, and bejewelled rings decorated her fingers, signs of a more than modest lifestyle. "It's been far too long. Feels like we haven't spoken in ages." Regina smiled tightly.

They hadn't spoken in quite a while, that was true. It was no coincidence that Regina had avoided her. Their friendship in the old world had been a shallow one at best, forever marred by their fight over the title 'Mistress of all Evil.' Their last encounter before the curse's beginning hadn't helped much, and apart from that, they found each other's company rather tiring. Have a dozen pitched magical duels with someone, and you're bound to grow weary of them. Especially with a personality like Maleficent's. The twenty eight years in Storybrooke hadn't been kind to her mind, and day by day her sanity seemed to wane more and more in a cloud of ecstatic madness. It was sad really. To the peoples of the old world, Maleficent was one of the few devious masterminds who'd ever made any step at towards redeeming herself. She'd made her peace with the incident with Princess Aurora, and settled down to live a tranquil life of solitude in her keep. Then something had changed, and she'd become fixated on her old enemy to the point where she spent the majority of her life plotting ways to ruin Aurora's.

"Maleficent, dear, how lovely to see you. Yes, it's been much too long." She turned to her other guest. "Gothel, you're looking well. Your girl's hair is doing wonders for your skin. You haven't looked so young in years."

Tina Ross, known in the world of fairy tales as Mother Gothel, gave a small smile, brows rising on her forehead. A curvacious woman, Gothel had the looks of someone barely over the age of twenty, with flawless ivory skin, and a curtain of wavy black hair that fell to her waist. She was much older than she looked, Gothel. Her lifespan was spread over nearly four centuries, kept afloat by the power of a very special flower, whose power now resided in the hair of a young girl.

"Regina," she said in a calm voice reminiscient of the queen's own. "Wonderful to see you." She glanced around at the empty chairs. A coy smile curved her lips. "Is it just the two of us you've called?" she gestured to Maleficent, who'd taken a seat and poured herself a glass of wine. "It would take an emergency for you to willingly call us all here to meet, but it would take something far worrse for you to call a select few of us. How interesting." She walked to a nearby armchair and took a seat, crossing her ankles daintily. "What is it you need Regina? I'm more than happy to help."

Regina didn't doubt that. But Gothel only gave help when it benefitted her own plans. And when Gothel's plans were involved, chances were at least one person would end up with a knife in their back.

"As am I" Maleficent put in cheerily, raising the wine glass to her lips."I'm always willing to help a friend in need. Always." The queen rolled her eyes. These days, in this world, Maleficent was beyond neurotic. One day, like the day she'd relieved her of the curse, she'd gone on about forgiveness and redemption, urging her friend to not take the path she was considering. Another day, she watched gleefully as half a truck's worth of mice were carted into her basement, where she giggled as frothing hot potion poured over their writhing bodies. In her madness, she'd began experimenting with what little magic the curse allowed her, trying to change the physical form of something other than herself.

Sighing, Regina paced the the window, peering through a gap in the tightly drawn curtains.

"My friends, I'm sure you've noticed the changes to our snug little hamlet as of late. The clock moving, King James waking up, and the developing relationship between he and Snow White."

"The curse is breaking" said Gothel. Regina nodded. "I suspected as much. Lately my magic has been more than adequate." A torrent of sparks flickered across her fingertips, bright, and healthy sparks ready to ignite anything they touched. Regina's eyes widened. She'd been afraid of that. When the curse had been cast she and her villainous allies had anchored their magic in it, sustaining the fabric of the alternate reality. Doing so had reduced most of their abilities to glorified parlor tricks, though that was a reasonable cost for an eternity in paradise.

"Your powers are returning to you" she said quietly. Her own magic had been reduced as well, assuaged by the fact that at any time, as the curse's caster, she could draw in it's collective might. But she hadn't felt herself growing stronger recently. She'd felt herself grow weaker.

"Mine as well" said Maleficent. The hand holding the wineglass morphed into a huge, scaly dragon claw, the glass balanced precariously on the sharp points.

"Have you any idea why that is, Regina?" Gothel asked with faux innocence. "Why is the curse breaking? Our friends won't like this at all. They've grown used to their lives of peace here, and have no wish to return. Well, except perhaps for the Troll King. He does miss his magic a great deal. It was a hard adjustment not being able to incinerate any who defied him. You have a lot to answer for, Regina. Why is the curse breaking?"

"I have a theory" Regina answered carefully. She was treading on dangerous grounds now. Friends or not, these two could become enemies at the drop of a hat. "It's why I've called you here tonight. Tell me, have you noticed our town's newest visitor?"

"The young man who held up the school?" Gothel asked. Regina nodded.

"Look's like one of mine, with that scar of his" Maleficent said, tapping a venemous claw against her drink. "His picture was all on the front page this evening."

"He may very well be one of yours, my dear. Though I can't be sure. His name is Caleb Montori, and he is far more than he seems. He is...a time traveller, from the days yet to come." Her guests stared.

"A time traveller?" Gothel queried, brows now gone above her hairline. "Is such a thing even possible?"

"Oh it's more than possible" Maleficent told her, chuckling. "Time is a fickle thing. Slippery, hard to control." Her eyes narrowed. "Only Gold would have enough power to turn back time."

"He and Montori have a deal" said Regina. "I believe it was he who sent him back in time. Though for what reasons exactly he did so, I cannot say. I was unaable to read the entire contract." Head aching, she massaged her temples. Here came the hard part. The bit of information that would changer her friend's views entirely. "Montori is my son, Henry. Nine years older. Apparently the curse breaks in the future. But somehow, it's breaking becomes our advantage. He's come back in time to break it again in a way he finds more favorable."

Gothel gaped. Maleficent laughed.

"Your son?" Gothel asked darkly.

"My dear, you'd better hope this news never reaches Jafar or Hook. They'd love to have a reason to scewer the boy like a piece of meat, lop off his head before he can do any damage."

Maleficent shook her head.

"We warned you he'd be trouble my dear" she tutted like a chastising parent. "Especially after he got that book, and started telling the whole town they aren't who they think they are. He'll have to be disposed of, Regina."

"He will not" the queen snapped, whirling to face them directly. "That is why I have called you hear. Montori may be Henry's future, but he is not Henry, he is not Henry's fate, and he is certainly not my son. My son will grow into what I wish him to be. Not this traitorous boy with nothing but a few skills with a sword and a handful of fae blooded magic tricks. I'm changing his future my friends. And you're going to help me."

Gothel and Maleficent exchanged a look.

"Of course, Regina" Gothel said. A rare softness was etched across her face. "I'd be happy to help avert the boy's less than stellar future. Gods only know what I would do in your shoes, if an older Rapunzel were to appear and try to ruin everything."

Inwardly, Regina smirked. Gothel had been a wise choice. The two of them had a lot in common, you see. Both of them were witches who lusted for power, for control. Both had done terrible, terrible things. And both of them had adopted a child who they'd genuinely grown to love.

With a heart twisted by centuries of evil deeds, Gothel's love for her kidnapped daughter was perhaps the only glimmer of goodness inside her. And it made her all the easier to control. Regina had a similar glimmer of her own. But she'd acknowledged that, and refused to let it make her weak. Power and position were all that really mattered in the end.

"I'll help as well" Maleficent said, setting down her empty glass. "I'd very much like to study time travel. The curse as well. All very convaluted magic, these things. Now, Regina, what would you have us do?" Regina smiled.

"First, we need to discover what assets our enemy possesses. He's a fae blooded, and a fairly powerful one if his eyes are any indication. He has a vast knowledge of the old world and it's inner workings. Magic, politics, stories and legends. He knows it all. He's much like Henry, in that respect. But what really needs digging into is his mother, Emma Swan." She paused. "You noticed of course that she was the first ever visitor to our humble abode. The day she arrived was the day everything started changing. The day the clock started moving. Admittedly, her pressence...troubles me."

Again she paused, considering her words. She couldn't make herself look weak with fear. Not now. "And not in the way you'd expect, what with her trying to steal my son. When she's near, I feel...strange. My hold on the curse feels distant. Not weaker, more fragile. We need to discover what she is, my friends. To discover why it is my son sought her out, and why the curse is weakening. Luckily, she's dining with me tomorrow evening. A heroe's feast for protecting the innocent little children. Maleficent, you will join us. Observe her, examine the flows of magic around her. You'll be needing a test subject, naturally. To see what effect she has on those cursed."

"I'll bring the girl" Maleficent grinned. "She missed work this morning. Pity. I was thinking of giving her leave next week. No matter now. I'll just dock her pay again. I'm curious to see what effect Swan will have on her. With a curse of this magnitude, there's no telling what breaking it could do. So many possibilities." She had a far off look in her eyes, as if experiencing a wonderous daydream, probably about ways she hoped to torture Sleeping Beauty and her prince.

Regina rolled her eyes. Even among their sort of crowd, Maleficent was paticularly petty with her revenge schemes. After all, she'd cursed an entire kingdom for not being invited to a birthday party, and had nearly been slain by a deaf prince as a result. The queen turned to Gothel.

"I want you to examine Montori more closely, Gothel. I need to know what he's made of. There's no doubt he'll know who you are. But he can hardly do anything to impede your study, chained to his hospital bed." Gothel nodded.

"Am I looking for anything in paticular?" Mulling through a person's body with magic was a long process that revealed much about the subject. But much of the information revealed was almost entirely usless. Medical readings, pulse rates. Other various facts about the body.

"Magic, of course. We need to get a gauge on just how powerful he is, and what spells he's capable of performing. Do not kill him, by the way. His deal with Gold keeps old Rumpels bound to something, and I won't turn away any sort of advantage, especially one on for old wounds as well, and how he got them. Anything that could help determine what sort of battles he's seen. Gold's made a wraith of him as well. Check his connection to it. See if we can figure out where it's hiding. To defeat an enemy, you first must know him." She met Gothel's eyes. The hardness faded from her expression for a moment. "Thank you, Gothel. I knew you'd understand my situation." And a daunting situation it was. Trying to protect her child while trying to orchestrate the downfall of an older version of said child.

"My pleasure" Gothel told her, standing up. She took Regina's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Henry's yours, Regina. No matter what Swan's done for him, you raised him, he's yours. Never let anyone tell you otherwise." Sincerity shone in her eyes, and Regina knew she meant every word. A small part of her felt guilty for evoking such compassion in her fellow witch. She'd done so to further her goals, not create a sense of kinship between them. Gothel turned towards the door, skirts swishing with her steps. Looking back over he shoulder, she said. "Whatever Montori is, he isn't your son. He won't even have a chance to exist when you're through with him. I'll have samples of his magic for you tomorrow evening. Perhaps then you'll tell me the rest of your plans. You do have plans you're not telling me, don't?"

It was a rhetorical question. Regina snorted.

"Of course" Regina said, looking out the window at the star speckled sky. "But I can hardly tell you of them now. Wouldn't want to put all my eggs in one basket, would I?"

**Really short chapter, I know, sorry guys. There was a lot of stuff I wanted to squeeze in here, but then it would have been way too long. So instead of writing one oversized chapter I decided to make this scene a sort of interlude, and use the other stuff, (which will come out much faster than this one did) in the next chapter. Happy Reading!**


	15. The Hatter

Emma felt the yellow bug vibrate beneath her feet, the chugging of the engine breaking the silence of the surrounding forest. An open evidence bag sat on the seat beside her, filled with the contents of Caleb's backpack that she'd confiscated as evidence from his room at Granny's. Needless to say, after wakening from the Kemigree dream state with Caleb's instructions freshly given, the first thing she'd done was drive down to the station and rifle through its contents. Yes, Caleb had told her to go get the book, apparently she'd need it to carry out his instructions, but her morbid curiosity would have gotten the best of her anyway, and she would have just had to look. Anything that could tell her more about the future she had to see.

It was an odd combination of items, but they were less odd when you considered their owner. Three crinkled paperbacks, adventure stories of course. A knife in a thick deerskin sheath. The broken remains of some odd pen-like device, with several neon green parts that glowed when you touched them. A hunting horn carved from ivory, or the fairy tale equivalent of ivory, with a jagged crack running its length, rendering it incapable of producing sound, and a large leather bound book with the title 'Once Upon a Time: Volume II'.

Its' pages were yellow with age, and the creases on the spine indicated a heavy amount of use. This of course had held Emma's attention far longer than Caleb's other possessions. It was a storybook just like Henry's, filled with tales of the fairytale world. But unlike Henry's it had been written by Caleb himself, and was filled with the tales of his life. Of the adventures he and she had shared in the future. For nearly an hour she had poured over its contents, taking in the beautiful illustrations. She couldn't read the book. All the text was in a strange language she couldn't even identify. But many of the pictures told enough of the story on their own.

The first page she'd flipped to had shown Jake, the deaf teenager she'd seen at Granny's, roaring victoriously as he brought a glowing sword down on Maleficent's long dragon neck. Dark blood pooled beneath the dying witch, her body half morphing back to its natural human form. Phillip was the teens real name according to Caleb. Sleeping Beauty's prince, the deaf prince of the Northern Kingdom, and arguably the most powerful fae blooded to ever live. Three fairies had poured their magic into his body. And as a result, his power resembled that of a demi-god. Like with Caleb, his eyes were misted, and his physique was muscular, but not overly so. Lightning crackled around his form, and bright magical light blazed in his sword. The sword of truth, it was called.

Another page depicted her, decked out in sleek plate armor, fighting off a horde of skeletal warriors alongside a thirteen year old Caleb, whose hair had grown beyond shaggy and was tied in a short tail at the nape of his neck. They were in some sort of underground tomb. Cobwebs hungs like curtains, and more than two dozen sarcophaguses were spread about the room, hands of the undead clawing their way out of them. This was obviously before the memory in the desert Caleb shown them. Because he wasn't flinging fireballs or magic spells, and Arienna was still a tiny fairy, shouting encouragement from beneath the armor on Caleb's shoulder.

Emma couldn't help but smirk at the glint in the fairy's eyes, gaze fixed on her son. She became his girlfriend at some point. After giving up her magic to save his life and growing to a human sized fae. That was why Caleb had restored her memory before all the other fairies. Instead of recruiting the Blue Fairy, the fairy king or queen, or any of the other vastly more powerful fairy warlocks, he'd gone straight for her. That was just the kind of thing she could picture an older Henry doing, setting up his younger self with his one true love Back to the Future style. A tiny bit of her felt uneasy at the thought of her son dating. She wasn't against the idea of course. She wasn't like Regina, who would take any female's relationship with him to be a ploy to take him from her.

She just felt unready for that kind of thing. Of course it was still a few years away when you thought about. Henry was still ten, and didn't find girls interesting unless they were also the counterpart to a badass warrior princess from his book, but with Caleb here, it felt like she'd suddenly skipped the years of teenage angst and puberty and been dropped into the late adult years, when her child would be old enough to understand that she was human, and was less than the perfect image of her he'd drawn in his mind. The fact that Caleb had actually walked through her past made her even more uneasy. Nauseous, even. He didn't judge her for any of it. He was the kind, fair son in that respect. But him just accepting it seemed like she was getting off to easy. Those feelings were ones she'd have to deal with on a later date. Seeing as trying to go through would take weeks or possible months considering the convoluted labyrinth that was her psyche.

A page near the middle had brought her to tears. Something that was very hard to do. She still couldn't read the text of course. Yet here she didn't need to. The picture spoke for itself. And what it said had tears streaming down her face, dripping onto the page from the tip of her nose.

The illustration showed her mother, Snow White, sitting up in bed. A pair of lamps illuminated her face, emphasizing the euphoric joy that shone in her features. An armored Emma stood to her left, smiling, with Henry beside her wearing a similar smile. On the bed's opposite side stood Charming, glowing with pride, and the rest of the room was crowded with miscellaneous others. Red Riding Hood, the dwarves, Cinderella, some of them were cut off by the pictures edge, but all their eyes were fixed on what Snow held in her arms.

A baby girl. Bald except for a patch of curled dark hair, wrapped in a hand knitted pink blanket, a name stitched in red on the front.

_Rose _it read.

Emma had choked up at that. This was her sister. Her baby sister who had yet to be born. She'd had various foster siblings for all her life, none of whom she considered family or even friends. Yet sometime in the future, she had a real sibling. One three decades her junior. Later pages showed little Rose grow into an adorable toddler, playing with stuffed toys, getting piggyback rides from Henry her nephew, and bouncing on her elder sister's knee. Somehow Caleb had neglected to tell them that Snow had gotten pregnant during their future war against Regina. That made her angry.

On further reflection she conceded that he'd probably thought she wasn't ready for that kind of news. In just the half a day since the revelation of his identity, he'd dumped an awful lot of emotionally stirring information, and revealing that there was a new addition to her fairytale family would hardly do any good. That considered, she was still a bit angry. She had a right to know the truth. Even if the truth ended up hurting her.

Before leaving the station to perform Caleb's instructions, she'd looked at one more page. This one was painted in a different hand than the others. The strokes were different. They were blurred and abstract, and gave a haunting sense of mystery to the scene. Unlike the other pages, it held three English words scrawled neatly across the top.

_The Last Hunt_.

Beneath that simple heading was drawn a world wreathed in flame. Trees burned like torches on fiery hilltops. Great cracks split the ground, as if the very earth was tearing itself apart. And there, at the forefront of the picture, on top of a barren hill free of grass and flame alike, stood Caleb. Even with the abstract painting it was obviously him. He had the same scar, and a white swan was engraved on his battle worn suit of armor. His head was craned back, his eyes were closed, and he held the cracked ivory horn to his lips. In his free hand he held a long pole, the swan banner fluttering high above his head.

What any of this meant Emma could only guess. She'd have to ask Caleb later, along with a thousand other questions. But they would have to wait for later. Having spent his energy on the Kemigree, Caleb would be unconscious for several days, and would only be able to interact with them through the Kemigree while they were sleeping. His orders would have to come first. Besides, many of the pages didn't even have proper pictures. They had pictures, but they were blurred, as if some magic was keeping them from being seen properly. Probably an enchantment of Caleb's to stop her from knowing too much. Cheeky time travelling bastard.

Before issuing the orders Caleb had given them a run down on the differences between his future timeline and this one. Those differences would affect his plans for than he'd originally thought.

"Just by being here" he'd told them in the ethereal Kemigree playground. "I've change a ton. Even with stuff I haven't actively been trying to change. For example, you and Pop getting together again, Nan. In the original timeline, you didn't get together until much later on. Somehow my presence shifted it, made it happen differently. I'm actually kind of glad about that part. I've saved you guys a whole bunch of needless drama. Originally Kathryn tried to leave town, leaving letters behind for each of you giving her blessing for the two of you to be together. The queen burned at least one of them. No happy endings on her watch. Then she kidnapped Kathryn, ripped out her heart, and buried it by the toll bridge in a box with your fingerprints all over it, Nan. She did that to one of her few real friends just to try and frame you for murder. It's a good thing I'm here this time around. Now Emma won't be forced to arrest you, and you guys won't get kidnapped by the Mad Hatter."

Emma's brows had nearly jumped entirely off her face at that.

"Wonderland's real too?" she asked. Through the Looking Glass was one of the few books she'd actually read during her school days. It was a good book, but it was a book, not a fairytale.

"All stories come from somewhere" Caleb answered. "Wonderland is just another world, one the Mad Hatter travelled to using his magic hat. Then the queen trapped him there. That's how he went mad, trying desperately to get back to the daughter he left behind, Grace, Paige in this world. She was a classmate of mine. He wasn't always mad, and he doesn't always have to be either. That's why as soon as you're done here you're going to talk to him."

"To make him remember who he is?" Caleb shook his head.

"Nah, he already remembers. That's how the curse tortures him. It forces him to be aware of the fact that he's in the wrong world, away from his daughter. She has another family in this world, and all he can do is watch her from afar. He's getting desperate about now. For twenty eight years he's been trying to recreate his hat so he can leave, but there's no magic here, so it won't work. That's why he's been spying on you since you got to town. When you got here, magic came with you. Time started ticking again. He kidnaps you and tries to force you to make his hat. He comes off a bit crazy, of course. So you end up bludgeoning him in the face with a telescope and Nan ends up kicking him out a window. That won't happen this time though. Because you're going to recruit him."

The rest of his instructions had done little to calm Emma's nerves. The whole concept of real-life fairytale characters had slowly started to dawn on her, and it made her realize just how dangerous some of Storybrooke's residents really were. The Mad Hatter included. If Caleb's story was anything to go by, then he owned a gun he wasn't afraid to use, and a pair of scissors sharp enough to decapitate someone. Not really the kind of person you dropped in on at two in the morning to have tea with.

Regardless of her anxiety, Emma pulled smoothly into the long paved driveway, double checking she had the right address.

The house was huge. Far too big for a single person, and had large glass windows at the front, giving Emma a sneak peak at what lay within. The windows were dark, but a single source of light could be seen glowing deep within. The hatter was working in the back room, into the wee hours of the morning. Taking a breath of preparation, Emma tucked the storybook under her arm and stepped out of the bug. Carefully, she stepped up to the front door and pressed the doorbell. It chimed loudly, echoing through the house. Nearly ten seconds later, the door swung open.

Emma didn't know what she'd been expecting. She'd never seen the Hatter before because he rarely left his house. What she'd expected was a deranged freak in a top hat, not this.

"Hello?" asked a man about half a head taller than her. Sewing pins were tacked to the front of his button down shirt, and a violet fabric was draped over one arm. Sharp cuts were made across his surface. He'd been hard at work, creating approximately he's hundred thousandth hat to date. There was no tiredness in his expression, and no indication that he was irritated at having a visitor at such an ungodly hour.

"Hello" said Emma, smiling. Her grip tightened on the book. "Are you Jefferson?"

"Yes" the hatter answered, opening the door a little more. "You're the sheriff, aren't you? Swan?" Emma nodded. "How can I help you? I was just getting a bit of work done. Sewing's a bit of a hobby of mine."

Again Emma took a deep breath. Here was the part where she'd look crazy if it turned out the last twelve hours were all just some crazy dream, and fairytales weren't real at all.

"I'm here because…because I know who you are, and I know what you're trying to make. I'm here to help, Jefferson."

The Hatter's eyes widened, and Emma could see just a hint of madness in them. That madness however was drowned by the hopefulness that permeated from his expression.

"You…you can make my hat work?" he asked just above a whisper. His eyes darted from right to left, as if expecting some unknown assailant to leap from the shadows. He looked back to her. "You can help me get home?"

"Not directly" she answered, causing his face to fall immediately. "My coming to town might have changed things, but I don't know the first thing about magic. But I have a friend who does; he's offered to make you a new hat. We're making plans to break the curse and stop the queen. And I'm trying to help everyone get home. You and your daughter included."

That hopeful look was back just as quickly as it had gone. A smile curled at Jefferson's lips. A genuine, madness-free smile.

"Please" he said, opening the door fully and stepping to one side. "Come in."

Emma entered the house and followed her host across the fluffy carpeted front room. The house was even bigger on the inside, and had modern furnishings wonderfully contrasted by the abstract paintings and moldings that hung above the fireplace and on the mantle. They took a few steps down a hallway before entering what was obviously the hatters work room. A large glass table dominated the center of the room, covered in bits of fabric, various sewing machines, and semi-finished hats. The back wall was taken up by a glass case, filled with identical top hats. Off to one side stood a small table with a tea set, half a dozen stuffed animals seated around it. By the window was a pale gold telescope. He'd been spying on her with. Either that, or on his daughter.

Again Emma felt the uneasiness rise in her stomach. Even as the Hatter offered her a chair and sank onto his work stool. All of this was real. But looking at this guy's house, you'd think he was completely off his nut.

"I'll admit, sheriff" Jefferson began quietly. "I wasn't expecting you to come here on your own. I've been…watching you for quite some time, and had other…plans for making you acquaintance."

"You were going to kidnap me" she finished for him, voice a deadpan. Jefferson's brows shot up.

"Yes, actually" he admitted, sounding embarrassed. "Have you been spying on me as well? Or does the magic you've brought to town allow you to…see things, in visions?"

"Neither" she answered. The words felt odd coming out of her mouth. She was actually going to have a conversation about magic and alternate worlds. Not a game to humor Henry. An actual, serious conversation. That was hard to get used to. "You know about my son, right? Henry, the queen's adopted kid?" Jefferson nodded.

"The one with the book of stories" his eyes flicked to the book under her arm. "Is that it?"

"No" Emma said. She pulled it closer. "This is a different one. My son actually wrote this one. Not Henry. My other son." Another brow shot up. Emma sighed. Explaining time travel wasn't at all easy, even when explaining it to a fairytale character with a magic hat. "Well, he is Henry. But older. He's from the future, and he sent me here knowing you were planning on kidnapping me in a few weeks. This book" she tapped the spine. "Is full of his past. The future. Apparently, according to Caleb, that's the older Henry, in the future I help you find your daughter, and because of that you use your hat to help us move armies through to other worlds. To gather forces to help us against the queen. Here," she stood and placed the book on the table full of fabric and flipped it open. "He told me to show you these pages."

She flipped through to page two-ninety-four. The picture was of the Hatter standing on a damaged city street, standing in the rubble of a fiercely fought battle. But the look on his face was beyond happiness. For in his arms he held his little Grace, spinning her through the air with joy. Jefferson fingered the image almost longingly. Twenty eight years he'd been trapped in this nightmare. Unable to see or speak to his little girl. And now Emma Swan had brought him the first glimmer of hope he'd seen in an eternity. Emma turned the page. This one showed him and Grace standing in a large circular room bordered entirely by doors. Some were colorful, others were pale, and one of them was a glass mirror. The two of them were happily directing a legion of soldiers bearing the swan insignia through one of the doors, at the same time directing another legion on their way out. The Hatter looked up at Emma.

"You can break the curse?" he asked almost pleadingly. "You and this time travelling son of yours-" he didn't even pause to question the absurdity of such a thing-"You can help me get my Grace back?"

"Yes" Emma whispered in reply. How they would do those things she had no idea. But with that desperateness shining in Jefferson's face, she couldn't bring herself to tell him no. "Yes we can. But we need your help. Caleb will be unconscious for a few days, so you'll have to wait a little while before he can get you a working hat. But before you get your hat back, he wanted you to come with me to Gold's shop. There's some stuff he wants me to get out of there tonight. You're supposed to help me check for magic wards Gold may have left. Can you help with that?" She felt weird asking this complete stranger for aid. The whole conversation seemed stiff, and off to her. Though the Hatter was definitely who he was supposed to be, it still felt like they were having an incomplete conversation. One where neither of them was entirely sure what was going on, with just a few bits and pieces known to either.

The Hatter nodded vigorously.

"Of course" he said. Leaping off the stool he slipped into his long coat and reached instinctively for a hat to cap his head. A moment later he reconsidered. He hadn't been to town in years, and calling attention to himself was the easiest way to evoke the queen's wrath. Reaching under his work table he retrieved a nine millimeter pistol which he stowed behind his belt. "Alright" he said, turning back to Emma. "Lead on, sheriff. I'll do whatever it is you require of me. Anything to see my Grace again."

With that said Emma lead him back out of the house to her bug. He took the passenger seat, and the two of them were off, chugging down the winding forest road back towards town.

* * *

><p>It was about ten minutes into the drive before either of them said anything. It wasn't Emma who broke the silence. Meeting with a fairytale person who wasn't her mother or future son narrowed down her list of topics to talk about. And anyway, conversation with strangers had never been a strong point of hers, especially in the car. In fact, the only people she could ever remember riding in the bug with her were Henry and Mary Margaret, and Hansel and Gretel, not counting the bail jumpers she'd slung in the back seat. No, it was Jefferson who spoke. His voice was casually calm, unspoiled by the excited glee that filled his soul. He was finally going to get his daughter back after all these years.<p>

"Do you mind if I ask you something, sheriff?"

"No" she shrugged, glancing at him sideways. "And Emma, please."

"Emma," he corrected himself. "I'll admit I've been watching you for sometimes, my apologies, by the way," he added hastily. "But I just have to ask. How have you dealt with it so well, for all this time?" Emma was confused.

"Dealt with what?" she asked.

"With having to leave your child in the care of another" he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "To have to watch him be raised by the queen herself. True, you gave him up for adoption ten years ago, didn't you? But you did that out of love. To try and give him a better life. That's what I was doing when I led the queen into my hat and through Wonderland, to make a better life for Grace. And then just like that the queen took her, took her and everything I ever loved away from me in an instant. All I had left was my mind, my memories, and as time passed even those started to fade." He tilted his head to one side quizzically, "We're in similar situations, are we not? I go with you now to fight the queen in any way I can to get my daughter back. Are you not fighting to free your son from the queen's grasp?"

The question resonated in Emma's head before she could process it properly. An avalanche of revelations tumbled into her mind. Realizations, terrible, terrible realizations. She'd never thought of it like that before. In the time since she'd discovered the truth in Henry's curse theory, not once had she stopped to think about the fact that her son was being raised by a legitimately evil witch. A monster of a woman, who'd cursed untold millions out of her desire for revenge, and who had proven herself more than willing to kill those she loved to further her own goals. Her father and alternate-time-line-Kathryn were proof of that.

Henry was living with her, and as such was in very real danger. Regina wouldn't hesitate to use him in any way she needed. When she'd said she loved her adopted son, she hadn't been lying. It was just that she loved herself far more. A few months ago Emma would have loved something like this. She'd have been open to anything that give her a legitimate excuse to kidnap her son and rescue him- smuggle him away from Regina.

Now that such an excuse had come, it was rather hollow. Yes, she had an excuse to take Henry from Regina. But speaking in terms of reality, in the terms outside of magic and fairytales, Regina had all the power in the world. Like Regina herself had said, any judge in the world would grant her a restraining order against a stalkerish birth mother. If she wanted Emma gone, she could have it done with a snap of her fingers. It was by luck alone, and perhaps a teeny bit of destiny, that Emma had been able to remain in town at all. Regina had everything,tenure from raising Henry for ten years, magical powers, and an infinite number of lawyers backing her up.

Saving Henry from her would be far more difficult than Emma had thought. And that scared her to death. So to answer the Hatter's question, she had no idea how she'd been dealing with it. Because until just then, she hadn't known there was anything to deal with at all.

"Yeah" she answered after a prolonged silence. "I am fighting for him, he's why I stayed in town in the first place, and he's why I'm here right now." She shook her head. "Honestly, until earlier today, I didn't even believe the stuff Henry told me. I was just playing along, pretending." Jefferson nodded knowingly.

"Grace was just the same. She'd have me running through the woods playing hide and seek on moment, having a tea party with her toys the next. I never saw you as a believer, watching you. But it's obvious how much you care for the boy. Children are wonderful, aren't they? They give you the best and worst of emotions. Unconditional love, and fear so real that it turns your blood to ice." Emma nodded. She hadn't expected to have anything in common with the Hatter. But their situations really were quite alike. Both had been pulled away from their children by magical forces, and both were desperate to be ride of those forces and be free to love their kids with all they had.

"Guess I really haven't dealt with it at all until now. Hadn't even thought of it." She chuckled sadly. "Great. I finally start seeing the truth, and that truth makes me so afraid I can barely breathe. Guess I'll just have to try my best from here on out. Try to think about what I'm trying to do, not what could happen if I mess up." The Hatter squeezed her shoulder, not like a stranger, but like an old friend.

"That, my dear sheriff, is as best a place as any to start."

Emma smiled. Maybe the world of fairytales would help her in something she'd been bad at her whole life. Making real friends. And the Hatter was as good a place to start as any.

The rest of the drive went by in silence. Despite their reasonably good natured conversation, they still didn't have much to discuss.

The sign of Gold's shop was off, as the owner had no chance to turn it on for the evening after being arrested earlier that afternoon. Protocol dictated that he be held for twenty-four hours before being bailed, so the owner wouldn't be getting in the way of tonight's retrieval mission. Dark shadows were cast over the front windows, turning the shop's inventory into a mass of indistinct shadows dwelling just out of sight. Emma and the Hatter got out of the car and approached the door. Reaching into her pocket, Emma brought out Gold's heavy key ring that she'd confiscated when arresting him.

With a click the door opened, and the pair stepped inside. Reaching out to her right, Emma felt for the light switch, and found it just beside the door.

"What exactly have we come to get?" Jefferson asked, gazing around at the various knickknacks that filled the shelves. "Whatever it is, I hope it's easy to find. I'm not fond of this place. Anywhere Rumpelstilskin lurks, trouble's sure to follow." Emma had to agree with that. Regina may be the queen, but the deal making pawnbroker was three times as intimidating. When doing business with him, you feared for your life.

"One sec," she said, looking around. The first item on her list was one she'd seen before, but never really given much thought to. She found it a moment later. One of three wooden marionettes sitting beneath an ornate glass mobile. Two of them she ignored. The smallest of them, however, was of a young boy with a conical hat and round wooden nose. Pinocchio. "Ah, there you are" Emma said. She stepped up to the shelf and picked him up carefully. The felt of his clothes was soft as silk, and his limbs moved creakily with the motion of her picking him up. A sense of great melancholy filled her as she gazed into his lifeless button eyes. According to Caleb, the curse had forced the poor boy to live out the last twenty-eight years hear, on this shelf, as a lifeless puppet. Ripped from his father. Ripped from his friends, and with no one but Rumpelstiltskin for company.

"Is that the inventor's boy, Geppetto's?" Jefferson asked sadly. Emma nodded.

"Yeah, it is. Caleb told me to get him out of here. We can't make him alive again until the curse breaks further, but we can at least take him somewhere better than this. You hear that, kid?" she whispered to the puppet. "You're not gonna be alone anymore." She turned to the Hatter. "Can he stay with you? The queen probably has my place watched. He'd be safer somewhere more out of the way, in the woods."

Jefferson nodded.

"Of course. I'd never turn down a child in need, especially one such as this." He eyed the cash register. "You'd best leave money behind. Stealing from Gold's a surefire way to end up dead."

Emma agreed. She certainly didn't want to owe him another favor. Being in Gold's debt felt repulsive, like she was coated in a thick black film that just wouldn't come off. As such she took one of the crisp hundred dollar bills from Caleb's wallet and left them on the counter. Gold would take the hint. The next item on Caleb's list would be a bit harder to come by.

The pair of them started looking for a safe. Finding it was easy, as it was in plain sight in the back of the store room just behind Mr. Gold's desk. Here was where the Hatter would come in. Warding entire rooms with barely a spark of magic difficult. Warding just a single safe was far less so.

Rubbing his chin, Jefferson examined the front of the safe. Years of working with his hat had given him some experience concerning magic. He wasn't a sorcerer by any means, but he knew what to look for to find a sorcerer's magical traps.

When he squinted his eyes, he could see the faint outline of a spider-web like construct plastered to the safe door. It was almost a hundred percent invisible, and anyone else would think it was just a trick of the light, but the Hatter knew better than that.

"Rumpelstiltskin has retained more of his power than I'd thought" he told Emma. "With the curse, even the queen's magic is reduced to parlor tricks. This ward should be easy to dismantle, but if we'd stumbled across it unknowingly, it've killed us in moments." Emma took a cautionary step backward.

"What would it have done?" she asked.

"Either incinerated us on the spot, or implode our livers. The ward structure of those two spells are very similar. Now, this may sound odd, but may I trouble you for a strand of your hair? I need something fine and long."

"Sure" that did sound odd, but magic was magic. She tugged a loose strand from her blonde locks and handed it over.

"Stand back," Jefferson cautioned her.

Moving forward carefully, the hatter dangled the hair above the safe door. He licked his lips. Undoing a weave was tricky business, even for someone skilled. Closing his eyes so that the afterimage of the magic net was just barely visible, he lowered the hair down into the webs center, near the safe's keypad.

He would later realize that if he'd moved the hair a centimeter more the right, he'd of killed them both in a fiery explosion worthy of a Michael Bay movie. Thankfully, however, his hand was deft enough, and the hair fell into the right place.

Suddenly the web became visible in it's entirety, lit up as if engulfed in flames. The flames were bright, but they were tame, and stayed conformed to the web shape. It hung there for a moment, glowing, before disintegrating to a pile of orange power on the floor. The Hatter turned back to Emma, grinning.

"There, I hope you have the code" he tapped the keypad. "Because magic can't guess that for you."

Handing over Pinocchio, Emma bent down to examine the pad. It had a full keyboard including numbers. Caleb had given her a code to use. Or his best guess at one, anyway.

Using her index finger, she carefully punched in the word _Baelfire._

The safe beeped in confirmation, and with a heave, Emma pulled the door open.

It held only one item. A sword, scabbard glittering with jewels. On the hilt was carved a word in fine curved letters. Dawnfang.

Emma reached for it, and when her hand brushed the hilt, a strange sense of warmth washed over her, filling her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. It was a familiar warmth. Picking the sword up, she instinctively drew it from the scabbard. She didn't know why she did it. It simply seemed the thing to do. She gasped at the sight of the blade. It was red like blood. And deep within the blade's metal, an ethereal glow pulsed healthily under her touch.

This felt right. The sword wasn't a weapon in her hand, it was a part of her, and she felt it as if it were another limb, a limb pulsing with some powerful, deep-set energy. This was her sword. Her future sword.

"I forged it myself" Caleb had said. "Me and the dwarfs. It was made for your hand alone, so only you can draw it from it's sheathe, and only you can use it properly. Part of my deal with Gold was that if we were to get it back from him, you had to do it yourself. Conveniently, his criminal record has left his shop unoccupied tonight."

"A fine blade" the Hatter said in awe.

They would've stood like that for several more minutes, gaping in awe at the glory of Dawnfang, but their gaping was cut short by the sound of shattering glass, and the blaring of an alarm from outside the shop. Emma's cellphone vibrated at her hip. Exchanging a startled glance with the Hatter, the sheriff sheathed the sword, and the pair darted back into the front of the shop.

Through the front windows they could see the cause of the hysterics. The hardware store across the street had it's front windows shattered, and the alarm system was screaming and flashing red lights all over the place. Two young men, no older than twenty, clambered out of the shattered portal. The first of the two out was carrying a duffel bag slung loosely over one shoulder. He had a pointed nose, and hairy scruff clung to his throat and chin.

His partner was slightly shorter, and was much darker skinned. He looked Indian, and was yelling out a stream of words that could only be Hindi curse words.

"Mai Chod de chootia!" he bellowed, nearly stumbling over his own feet.

At once Emma slipped into her bail bondsman state of mind. She darted out of the shop and made chase, quickly gaining on the perpetration. Whoever these guys were, they'd ended her already crazily hectic day with a bang.

**Before you guys ask, yes, the robbers are fairy tale characters. Cookies to anyone who guesses who the Indian guy is. Happy reading, please Review!**


	16. The Street Rats

Emma had expected a late night when she'd gone off to follow Caleb's instructions. She'd started after midnight after all. Getting to sleep by two would have been getting lucky. What Emma didn't expect was being led on a wild goose chase through Storybrooke's back alleys, chasing after a pair of college aged crooks. Admittedly, these kids were good. Really good. The scruffy looking one must have been a gazelle in fairy tale land, because each of his long, powerful strides put a good fifteen feet between him and his pursuer even with their heavy bag of loot on his shoulder. His Indian friend had to be part monkey, he ran up a brick wall and hung from a fire escape ladder just out of reach.

But as good as they were Emma was better. Years as a bail bondsman had taught her the perfect strategies to catch, subdue, and detain a target bigger and faster than herself. The key was to head them off, go where they were going, not where they were. A good hour and a half of that later and she had the crooks tackled to the ground and handcuffed. The whole process was exhausting, but it felt good to return to her old kind of work. Life as a small town sheriff was much more financially stable than life as a bounty hunter, but most of the job centered around tedious paperwork, and not nearly enough excitement. She'd needed a good work out.

By the time she'd taken down, cuffed, and dragged them to the station, it was almost six in the morning. Jefferson had long since left for home with Pinocchio sitting on his shoulder. He may have been mad, but the Hatter did have a fatherly air about him. Even when what he was fathering was a lifeless puppet with a magically dormant personality.

With an exhausted sigh Emma poured herself a cup of coffee. She had a long, sleepy day ahead of her. Gold was asleep in his cell. He sat upright on the edge of his cot, eyes drooped, with his hands curved protectively around a chipped teacup. The queen must have given that to him the day before, during their little meeting. What the teacup was, or why Gold was protecting it like a precious talisman, Emma could only guess.

Taking a piping hot sip Emma stepped into the interrogation room where her two newest prisoners sat, hands still tightly cuffed. Their arrest records were less than stellar. Ed Puren and Murali Agakar according to their birth certificates, had been in and out of the town jail since their mid-teens. Pickpocketing, burglaries, a few assaults, and their records were laid thick with petty crimes. They couldn't be that bad though. Graham's notes in their files labeled them as "good hearted, but dumbass kids". Like Emma, these two were orphans straight out of the system. Ed from a string of dead end foster homes, Murali from a destitute orphanage that had gone under just before his thirteenth birthday. They were survivors, and survivors sustained themselves in whatever way they could. Even burglary.

Idly, Emma tried to guess at what their fairy tale characters they were. Murali was probably Alladin. He was the only Indian character she could think of. If that wasn't it, she had no idea. Ed on the other hand was more difficult to place. Robin Hood, perhaps? He was a thief, yet seemed pleasant enough. Henry would probably know. The ten year old had already cast most of the town, with only a few people whose identities he just couldn't figure out.

"So" she said, taking her seat across the table from them. "Have anything to say for yourselves?" It was the first sentence she'd said to them apart from the Miranda rights. It would have been wasting time trying to question them on the way to the station. At that point, all they'd have said in reply would have been a string of endless irritated cursing. This heist had meant a lot to them, apparently. It's failing had done more than just dampen their spirits.

The Indian one said something in Hindi, his friend snickers. Obviously, he couldn't speak much English. His sentences were peppered with a few English words here and there, names mostly, or a misplaced article or two. Occasionally he would prod at his right pocket with his bound-together hands. Every few seconds his eyes would drift back there, like he was checking to make sure something was still there.

"What'd he say?" Emma turned to the scruffy burglar, Ed. He grinned, brilliant white teeth sparkling behind his lips.

"That you're much faster than the old sheriff. Graham would've had to take the car to catch us, you did it on foot. 'Lot nice than Graham, too. He was a good guy an' all, but he'd a done what the mayor told him and brought Ava and Nicholas to Boston. Nice move, sheriff. You got balls going against Mills like that. And if you don't mind me saying, you're much better looking than Graham, too." His face curved in a flirtatious smirk. Emma ignored it, her brows rising.

"You two know the Zimmer twins?" she asked. How would Ava and Nicholas know these two?

"Sure do" said Ed. Murali nodded. "Those two were on the street after their mom died. We showed 'em the ropes. Helped 'em knick some food. It's a good thing you did, finding their dad. Most people wouldn't even have tried."

"You ever bring them on any of your jobs?" she asked, ignoring his commending her actions and running a finger down his long list of misdeeds. Ed looked genuinely mortified.

"'Course not! They're just kids. We wouldn't risk getting them into _that _kind of trouble. Just cause we're mixed up in all this crap doesn't mean they have to be. And now thanks to you they never will. Tilman's a good guy, helped me fix an old pickup once. He'll make a great dad. " He paused and glanced at the door. "Hey, is Mr. Gold still locked up here? Mind if I slip in and talk to him for a minute? He's kind of our lawyer."

Instead of asking how a pair of street-rats could afford an attorney, Emma asked.

"Gold's a lawyer?" the look Ed gave her was incredulous, a look Murali shared.

"'Course he's a lawyer. He's a rich guy who owns half the town and does business with most of if not all the populace. How could he _not_ be a lawyer?"

_He also sells and buys children, makes magical deals, and creates dark curses, _Emma thought. _Yeah, that makes sense for a lawyer. _

"How can you afford him? No offense, kid, but Gold doesn't seem like the kinda guy who'd represent someone for free." Ed waved her off.

"None taken. And no, Gold's not the type of guy to do _anything _for free. Everything has a price with him. For us that price is a bunch of jobs he has us do every now and then. He'd do them himself, but some of them aren't exactly what you'd call legal, and most of them require a bit of running jumping and climbing that his bum leg just won't allow. It's actually a pretty good trade. We do his jobs, and he keeps of us out of prison. You ever see us on the roadside picking up trash, it's us doing the community service we get instead."

This kid was definitely the charismatic one of the pair. For a pickpocket street-punk, he was about as eloquent as you could get. Eloquent as he was, he apparently wasn't that bright, because he'd just told the town sheriff they'd participated in illegal activity.

"Is there any reason you just told me Gold has you doing something illegal?" she asked. Ed's eyes nearly rolled straight out of his skull.

"Sheriff, get real. Everyone knows that what Gold deals in isn't all legit. It's public knowledge, thought you'll never be able to prove it. He's a good enough lawyer that I could list out each and every thing he's done wrong to you right now and he'd still get off with a slap on the wrist and maybe a fine. A fine he could pay with his pocket change. Nothing against you sheriff, that's just kind of how things work here." Yawning, he sat back in his chair and cross one leg over the other. Murali, once again focused on his pocket, leaned over and whispered something in his friend's ear.

"Oh, right. Sorry, forgot about him." Ed sat up straight. "Hey sheriff, I know you gotta hold us here for a while before we can go and all, but do you think we could get a glass of water or something? Murali is getting' worried about Boo-Boo."

"Boo-Boo?" Ed nodded.

"Yeah, Boo-Boo. Show her, Murali."

Rahj nudged his pocket with the back of his hands and held them flat to allow a small, yet still plump rat to clamber out onto his open palms.

Repulsed, Emma took a step back. She wasn't like a lot of other woman who would have screamed at the site of any rodent-Snow's Mary Maragret half was probably one of those, but that didn't mean she liked them that much. Rats were dirty, wretched things. Who the hell would willingly carry one around in their pocket?

"He's our pet" Ed explained. "Well, Murali's pet mostly. Been carrying him around since he was a kid. Slips him a scrap of food every now and then, lets him take a drink when we pass a birdfeeder. Boo-Boo's really well trained. He never runs off or gets into our stuff. Hell, he'll even follow Rahj around if you put him on the floor." Ed's eyes suddenly grew serious. "You're not gonna take him, are ya sheriff? Graham never had a problem with him, and I've gotta warn you. Take Boo-Boo, and Murali'll go ape-shit on you. May earn him an assault charge or two to add to his rap sheet, but he won't care if he gets that rat back."

Emma hesitated for a moment. Dutifully speaking, she probably should take the rat. No doubt it was riddled with disease. Regina would rip her apart for letting a rat crawl around public property. Regina would hate it…..okay, that was more than enough justification to let the kid keep his pet. Annoy the queen, score a point for Operation Cobra.

"Nah, he can stay. Just don't let him out of the pocket much, 'kay? Don't wanna make more work for the janitor when he comes through later."

"Gotcha sheriff" Ed said. He communicated this information to Murali, who slipped the rat back into his pocket. Emma stood up. With a yawn she stretched her still stiff limbs. She would have to take a nap later today. It had been ages since she'd pulled an all-nighter.

"Okay guy, I gotta go do your paperwork. Since Gold is still asleep in there, I'm keeping you in here until he's free to go this afternoon. Don't break anything, and I'll be back to let you out of those cuffs in about an hour. Got it?"

"Got it, sheriff" Ed said back. "We know the routine. Done it a million times."

Exiting the room Emma moved towards her office. Mr. Gold's snoring carried across the main room, a rhythmic falling and rising of his chest punctuated by impish grunts. To her surprise, when she reached her glass office door, it was already opened, and someone familiar sat inside with his feet up on her desk.

"Good morning Miss Swan" the mysterious Writer, who according to Caleb was a descendant of the Brothers Grimm, as well as the seven year old boy who'd discovered her on the highway the day she was born, greeted with a smile. His jacket was opened, letting the various ornaments and symbols he wore around his neck spill at the collar of his t-shirt. On his lap Henry's storybook, the original one, volume one, was opened upside down so that the pages didn't show.

"What are you doing here?" Emma asked. It was all she thought to ask. Using her foot she pulled the door shut behind her. Something told her they wouldn't want Rumpelstiltskin overhearing this conversation. She walked around her desk, knocking the writers feet off as she went, and took a seat.

"I'm here to help you of course" he replied, flipping the book right side up and turning a few pages. "Caleb told you who I am didn't he?"

"Yeah. You're a Grimm, aren't you? You can see into the other world. In your dreams." Setting down the book the writer offered her his hand. She took it, and they shook hands.

"The name's Booth actually. August Booth. Grimm is my mother's side of the family. And yes, I can see into the other world. Though there hasn't been much to see since I was six years old. It's empty with the curse going on, a wasteland completely devoid of life. It was discouraging, really. For years I thought I was the dud of the family, the only one who hadn't inherited the Sight. That's not the case though. I see fine, there just isn't much to see. Did Caleb tell you where I've been for the last day? Wow, has it really only been a day? Feels much longer than that to me."

"He sent you off somewhere with a friend of his" she answered only half sure. Honestly most of the previous day was a blur of information in her mind. A hundred thousand interconnecting facts that may or may not have contradicted each other. August nodded.

"Indeed. A mutual friend of ours, now. The Doctor. A time traveler. He sent me to give this" he indicated the storybook in his lap "to Mr. Gold twenty eight years ago, so Mary Margaret could buy it and give it to Henry in the first place. I also wite it at some point down the line. Not sure when." Emma's face scrunched up a bit, confused.

"If you went back in time to give it to someone, how do you still have it?"

"I went forward in time as well" August explained. "To the end of all this, after the final battle. You gave it to me so I could come back and use it to help you. Does that make sense?" Emma nodded, yet she pinched the bridged of her nose, massaging her temple with the other hand. This just kept getting more and more complicated, didn't it? Why couldn't breaking a reality altering curse and saving the world be simple? It didn't have to be easy, it just had to be comprehendible, and she'd be content with the situation.

"Yeah, I guess it does. Any hints on how to win the final battle?"

"Have you gotten Dawnfang from Gold's shop?" Emma's eyes opened. That part she got.

"Yeah, earlier this morning. It's the trunk of my bug. Why?"

"You'll need it to win. Can't say much more than that. It's the future, remember? If I tell you too much the universe'll collapse from a time paradox. I can, however, help you with the matters presently at hand." He glanced out the office window. "You have Ed and Murali in the other room, right?"

"Yeah. Do you know who they are? I guessed Aladdin for Murali, but I wasn't even sure if Aladdin was a fairy tale that's real. I've seen the Disney movie, but I never saw him in a book or anything."

"No, you were right" August told her, flipping a few more pages and setting the book down in front of her on the desk. "Rahj is definitely Aladdin. He's a homeless street-urchin with a pet who helps him with crimes. Don't get much more Aladdin than that. Have a look."

The page he'd turned to was a beautifully painted picture of an enormous vault overflowing with treasure. Gold coins the size of saucepans were piled high as skyscrapers. Mounds of precious jewels ranging from head sized rubies to beach ball sized sapphires peppered the ground, and meticulously carved statues stood as silent sentinels guarding the immense riches. At the center of all this was a raised platform held up on the shoulders of two stone statues. On this platform stood a lithe young man dressed in a purple sash and a tiny red hat he wore on his head. On his shoulder was a brown monkey wearing a similar hat.

This boy was a dead ringer for Murali, with the same dark brown eyes, and the same dimpled smile that spoke of mischief and thievery. Aladdin, just like in the movie.

"Is the monkey a rat in this world?" she asked August. "He carries a rat around with him."

"Oh yes, Abu. They're inseparable in the other world, so I see no reason why they wouldn't be here. Abu wouldn't like that he's a rat here, though. He likes to eat rats. Anyway, in this world, Aladdin isn't a prince anymore. That what he wished for from the genie, to be a prince to woo the princess." Emma nodded. She'd seen the movie. "Here, he's back to being a street-rat. A street-rat who makes most of his income doing cheap labor for Mr. Nariapelea, this world's version of Jafar." August turned another page, revealing the image of a tall, snake-like man with high set eyes and long, slithery fingers, and a purplish black turban atop his head. Snake-like didn't quite do his appearance justice. In fact, he looked like Lord Voldemort's much tanner younger brother. He carried a golden staff carved in the shape of a cobra, whose eyes were glinting firedrops.

Emma recognized the man's face, though she'd never met him in person. Mr. Nariapelea was one of Storybrooke's elite, and dwelled in the wealthiest sector of town along with the queen and Maleficent. What he did for a living she couldn't say, but it had to be something sinister to be so lucrative. That, and Jafar's cruel nature would ensure that whatever profession he found himself in he'd be able to spread pain and misery.

"Does he remember who he is?" Emma asked. August nodded.

"Most of the villains do. They helped Regina cast the curse by binding most of their magic into it. In exchange, they get to live happily in Storybrooke forever. Well, it was forever until you showed up and time started moving again. In Storybrooke, Jafar's in charge of his ailing 'friend's' shipping business. His 'friend' is the Sultan of the eastern province, and he's spent the last thirty years with an excruciating terminal illness. Jafar's of course used this to his advantage and taken in most of the profits himself. That, and he spends most of his free time feeling up his 'friends' daughter, Julie. That's Jasmine in this world." Emma's eyes widened, before narrowing to dangerous slits.

"'Feeling up'? What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I mean what it sounds like. Jafar is forcibly sleeping with a nineteen year old girl under the threat that he'll unplug her father and ruin the family business if he refuses" August said most of this in a deadpan, surprisingly free of emotion considering the subject matter. "That's what separates reality from the movie, Emma. In the movie he ogles and tries to seduce her, here, he lives in a world where he gets what he wants." His face softened slightly, tinged with quiet anger. "Don't worry too much about Jasmine for now, Emma. She's a tough cookie. She'll get through it. Soon enough she'll remember who it is and be back in her own world, and there, her cat has a much more intimidating form. Rahja'll teach him to mess with her. Or Aladdin'll do it, like he did in Caleb's timeline."

It took Emma a moment to remember who Rajah was, Jasmine's pet tiger. Probably the coolest things about that particular Disney princess. Yeah, getting mauled by a tiger was definitely something a lecher like Jafar had coming to him. Resolve etched itself across Emma's face. There was no way she was going to let anyone get away with taking advantage of someone like that. This wasn't like the other subtle misfortunes that had kept Storybrooke's residents miserable for so long. This was blatant, and the sooner she got to work breaking the curse, the sooner crap like this would stop and everything would be put right.

"Okay then. So if Murali is Aladin, who's Ed? Robin Hood?" August shook his head.

"No, good guess though. He's Flynn Rider, the thief who breaks into Rapunzel's tower, and of course, falls in love with her. Have you seen the movie Tangled by any chance?"

"No. Don't watch many Disney movies anymore. Never liked 'em that much."

"Pity, it's a good film. And Disney movies are actually pretty accurate, especially Tangled. Except for a minor detail or two, it's pretty much the story exactly how it happened. He got off a bit luckier than Aladdin. He doesn't have to work for his nemesis, Gothel, that's the witch who kidnapped Rapunzel as a baby, doesn't much care what happens to him, she just wants Rapunzel to herself. But he's an orphan again, he's lost the family he'd built up around Rapunzel." August flipped to the page that showed Rapunzel's tower, and Ed, or Flynn, scaling it upwards toward the open window.

"So how do I get them to remember?" Emma asked. "Caleb wants them to get their memories back, right? It's not the wrong order or something?" August shook his head.

"Yes, he wants them to remember. They'll be useful against the queen. They're good fighters. Sly, quick on their feet." He paused, rubbing his chin ponderously. "There are really two ways we can go about restoring their memory. There's a single explosive return of memories, like what happened at the wedding in Caleb's timeline. That's the fastest method, but it also runs the risk of tear the curse again and pulling everyone back to fairy land. The other option is to slowly whittle away at the curse's hold on them. Peel it away in small layers, bring back memories a few at a time. That's the road Caleb wants us to take, so we'll try something slow and methodical to start with. Strike with precision early on, then double the attack as the memories start coming back." Again he paused, considering. "Well, for starters you should pepper in familiar words when you're talking to them. Hair, lamp, rug, genie, if you can manage it. For Flynn, a good way would be to smack him upside the head with a frying pan. That's how he and Rapunzel met. As for Aladdin….ah! Give him some bread. Not store bought bread, a piping hot roll from Granny's. That oughta do the trick. There's a strong memory tied to bread. A good Samaritan doing him a good deed when he was younger. All that should start them down the path to remembering. Can you remember all that?"

Emma nodded.

"Doesn't seem like a lot for me to do if it's just gentle prodding." Truthfully, it was a lot less than she'd expected her orders to be. She'd expected to have to restore half a dozen memories, slay a dragon, and rescue at least three princesses before the day was out. That seemed like the kind of things Henry, and Caleb, would have her doing, what with the way they went on about her being 'The Savior'. Apparently, Caleb was starting her out slow instead. "Caleb's keeping some things from me, isn't he?" Emma asked. August quirked a brow.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because it's exactly the kind of thing he'd do. Keeping information from me to try and protect me. Me and him are a lot alike in that sense. We both have a saving people complex, we can't just stand by and do nothing while people get hurt. We have to try and save everyone. And what he's told me about the future tells me that I die somehow, and that he's come back in time willing to do anything to save me. Even if it means keeping me out of the loop. So please, August, tell me, is Caleb keeping things from me?"

"Yes" August replied simply. "Yes he is." A long pause followed. "I can't tell you what they are of course. Time paradoxes, remember? But you're right, he is hiding things from you. That kid, both of him, loves you more than anything else in the world. That's why he's doing all this. He took bullets for you. He came back in time for you. Coming back in time is only a vague definition of what he's really done though. Time travel is what the Doctor does, bouncing through time from one point to the other. What Caleb did is restart everything. _Everything_. He made a deal with Gold that recreated the whole universe, just to save you. So yeah, he's keeping stuff from you, but it's all for a good cause. And besides" August reached into his pocket and brought out a heavily folded piece of paper which he set on the desk between them. "He isn't keeping everything from you."

"What's this?" she started to unfold it, but August caught her hands with his, stopping her. He glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Gold.

"Not here. Wait until you get home to look at it. Very important information, that. It's a map of the fairy tale world with everyone's pre-curse positions marked. That's where they'll come back through when the curse starts breaking again. Caleb spent a lot of time on that. Once he has a hat made for Jefferson, he's sending him to the other world to make sure things are ready for when everyone else gets there. To leave weapons in the right places, build some barricades, make it easier for everyone to come together when the plan comes together. Caleb marked where he wants Jefferson to prepare with little hats. You can't miss them. Study it well, Emma. When the war starts, they'll all be looking to you for leadership." He stood and moved as if to leave the office. Reaching for the door, he looked back. "Before I forget, be careful with that one." He jabbed a thumb in Mr. Gold's direction. "He's both our most powerful ally and our greatest enemy at the same time. Don't take anything he says to be true, and don't make any deals. That's how he gets his fingers into everything, making deals with people. Stay clear of him if you can. Good luck, Emma. I have to get this back to Henry" he tapped the storybook's spine "He'll be wanting it back. I'll see you tonight in the Kemigree. Caleb's starting your sword training. Can't wait to see the show."

With that he exited the office grinning, leaving behind a jaded, frustrated and confused Emma. Great. Everyone who knew anything concrete about the terrible future they were trying to avoid was beyond cryptic. Just great. Well, at least she had the map to look at. She and Snow would go over it before she had to go to dinner at Regina's. That was something. Not a lot, but it was something.

The low buzzing of her alarm roused Ava from a deep, deep sleep. She sat up in bed, and for a moment she had no idea where she was. Despite having spent the last month here, she was still surprised each morning when she awoke not in her mother's slowly dilapidating house, but in the small bedroom Michael had set up for her and Nicholas. It was a very plain room, with whitewashed walls and graying shag carpeting that hadn't been replaced since the house was built. Their father had used it for a storage room before they'd moved in. Old sports trophies and various knick-knacks were stacked haphazardly in the corners with no real organization to them.

The twins slept on a pair of old single beds Marco had had laying around his tool shed, which he'd been more than happy to surrender to his employee's children. Ava's was made up with a pink princess blanket that had come cheap from Mr. Gold's pawnshop. It wasn't what she'd have picked, but it was better than the other choices, a moth eaten monster truck blanket or the Bambi blanket Nicholas had gotten stuck with.

Between the two of them, Ava had always been the leader. That meant that she'd usually made the decisions when they were living on the streets. She was the one who'd talked to people, found out where they could sleep for a night, and convinced a pair of street toughs help them track down their meals. What this leadership ultimately meant was that Ava got her way a good amount of the time She wasn't a bully about it. She didn't forcibly take what she wanted from her brother, but, being the quiet, bookish twin, Nicholas had the tendency to silently step out of the way and let his sister take the lead in most situations. Hence why he was sleeping beneath a baby deer bedspread.

But these differences didn't nullify the fact that they were a perfect team. Two halves of a whole, as it were. They were almost complete opposites. Quiet and loud, sheepish and assertive. They balanced each other out. This balance often meant that they drove each other crazy, but they loved each other more than anything, and would have spent the rest of their childhood years homeless if it meant staying together.

Thanks to sheriff Swan that wouldn't be necessary. They had a home now. A home they were still getting used to, but a home nonetheless.

Groaning, Ava reached over and turned off the alarm. School started way too early.

"Time to get up, Nick" she told her brother, who was still sleeping blissfully on the far side of the room. His bed was wedged between an enormous track trophy and an old leather armchair with a dozen old sweaters piled on it. "Nick, time to get up" she said again, this time throwing her shoe at him. He moaned and rolled over.

"Five more minutes" he mumbled. "Having an awesome dream." Ava laughed. Sleeping was her brother's favorite hobby. Having spent the last several months on the streets, a soft place to sleep wasn't something they were used to. Now that he had easy access to a bed, Nicholas took a nap every chance he could get.

"Dreaming about Christine again?" she teased. Christine was his obvious crush at school. On the playground at lunchtime, a good portion of his time was spent eyeing her across the blacktop instead of eating. Slinging the blanket aside Nick glared, bits of disheveled hair hanging in his face.

"No" he said harshly. "Were you dreaming about Ed again?" A bright pink blush stained her cheeks. "Nothing to be embarrassed about, sis. He's just a little old for you, that's all." He flashed a wicked grin, one he only ever shared with her. With just the two of them, his shyness was none existent.

"Of course not" she spat back, climbing to her feet and reaching for her school shirt folded beside the bed. "Now get up. Michael has to be out by quarter till or he'll be late for work." She ran three fingers through her hair. It was a poor excuse for a proper hairbrush, but she'd made do with worse. Her appearance wasn't something she concerned herself with much, and she was hardly going to ask Michael to buy her beauty products. That was another difference between her and Nicholas. While he had taken to their new parent with gusto, she was far more cynical. Since coming to live with him, she'd called him 'dad' maybe twice, and called him Michael the rest of the time. It wasn't anything against the man. Not entirely at least.

Part of her was still bitter about his near abandonment of them the night they were to leave for Boston, and the fact that he'd been a no-show for the first twelve and a half years of their lives. The latter wasn't his fault exactly. Their mother hadn't told him. But their mother was dead now, and Ava wasn't about to blame anything on her.

The compass she'd given them as a memento of their father hung on a chain around her neck. Now as a memento to their mother instead of their father. She hadn't taken it off once, and Michael hadn't commented on wanting his compass back any time soon.

Nicholas laughed as he pulled on his school pants over his sleeping shorts. He'd showered the night before, as evidenced by the strawberry scent of his hair.

"Don't deny it Ava. I've seen your social studies notebook. It's nothing but doodles of Ed and his scruffy beard. Never pegged you as a beard girl always figured you'd have a thing for tall guys. Huh, You learn something new every day."

"Shut up" she snapped again, this time not as angrily. A poisonously sweet smile slowly formed opn her lips. "At least Ed knows who I am. Have you even talked to Christine?" That wiped the grin off her brother's face.

"Touche" he said in defeat. "Well played, little sister."

"Big sister" she corrected.

"I'm three minutes older."

"I'm taller than you" she said back cheekily. "I may be the 'little' sister, but I'm still the big sister."

"Whatever" Nicholas muttered as he laced up his shoes. "You win sis." This was him metaphorically rolling over and admitting defeat. Word play was something Ava would always beat him at.

"Of course I do" Ava said, just as cheekily as before. "Now come on. I don't wanna miss breakfast again."

She reached for her backpack but was stopped mid-step by a piercing scream and the sound of breaking glass. Startled, she nearly fell face first into her bag. Nicholas groaned, slapping a palm against her forehead. Sighing, he walked to the window, threw it open, and peered down the small alley that separated the house from the one next door.

"Great, the old bats are fighting again. They broke another window, threw a potted plant this time. Yep, here comes Rosa. What happened this time, your aunts forget their meds again?"

A moment later a young olive skinned woman approached the window. She was dressed in a maid's uniform, and had a small, cheap purse hanging at her elbow. Rosalinda lived in the house behind them with her three aunts. Or as Michael called them, the 'bats' because of their screechy voices and tendency towards screaming loudly at random intervals during the day.

"Morning Nicholas, morning Ava" she said with a quiet smile. Her hair was messy and unwashed, her eyes were bloodshot, and heavy bags hung beneath their sockets. She looked terrible. A crumpled piece of paper was clutched between her shaking fingers. "Sorry about that. Just had another fight with them. I missed work yesterday, I wasn't feeling well." She checked her watch, which, like her hand, was shaking with the movement of her body. "Sorry, I have to go. Running late-" and without another word she made a b-line towards the sidewalk.

"That was weird" Ava said after a few seconds.

"Yeah" Nicholas agreed. "Usually she stops to talk for a few minutes. She looked kinda sick. Think something's wrong with her?"

"I don't know" Ava replied. "We can ask her when she comes home tonight." She shouldered her backpack and opened the bedroom door. "Come one, let's get breakfast. I think Michael said he was making bacon today."

**Originally I intended for the scene with Ava/Gretel and Nicholas/ Hansel to be a lot longer, including them going to school, where they of course meet up with Henry, who'll try to bring them into operation Cobra. So basically, like I've done before, I'm splitting this chapter in half so that the chapters don't get so huge. Hope you guys like this one. Not a ton happens, but hopefully it was still enjoyable. Plots real start moving forward next time, and, hopefully, some of the plot threads I've been trying to spin since the beginning will start coming to a head. Happy reading!**


	17. The Twins

Apart from the tension left over from the previous days hostage situation, it was a typical morning at school for Nicholas and Ava. They heard frantically whispered gossip as they passed through the halls to their lockers, and saw an abundance of notes passed between desks during first period. Despite being a terrible, terrible event that had no doubt scarred those involved for life, yesterday's scarfaced gun toting maniac was all anyone was talking about. It was easily the most exciting thing to happen in Storybrooke any of the students could remember. Nothing good ever happened in this town. Until now.

"Do you think Henry's okay?" Nick asked as the two of them stepped out of the algebra room. A colorful crowd of kids passed in a nonstop flurry around them. Their fellow junior high students could be seen gathering near the water fountains, some to talk about sports, others to gossip about those beneath their social status. These were girls mostly. The cliqueish girls that existed at every school, who spent the majority of their time plotting the misery of those around them. Basic middle school stuff. Ava tensed at her brother's question. That was the part of the rumors that really bothered her. Rumor had it that Henry Mills, the mayor's kid, had been at the center of all the mayhem.

Though they hardly knew the kid, after all, he was a few grades below them, Ava couldn't help but worry about him. She felt like she and Nick owed him something. It had been he who'd urged his mom, Sheriff Swan, to go in search of their father instead of just shipping them off to the foster system like anyone else would have done. They'd spent an afternoon with him baking in Miss Blanchard's apartment. That had been the funnest day Ava could remember. The rest of her life seemed like a hazy blur of the weeks they'd spent on the streets, moving from one rundown alleyway to the next, hoping for nothing more than for a dry place to sleep.

"I don't know" she answered, adjusting the strap of her backpack. "Have you seen him today?" Nick shook his head.

"No, but he's here. Tough kid. Most of his class didn't come in." He paused, peering down the busy hallway. Indeed, the majority of Mary Margaret's class was absent, which was understandable. Yesterday had been very traumatic. "Do you wanna go check on him? I think he has the same lunch as us." After a moment's consideration Ava nodded. Yeah. Checking on him would be good for her nerves. Henry Mills was probably the closest thing either of the twins had to a friend. Maybe that could change.

"Yeah" she said. "Let's go."

Looking both ways down the bustling hallway, the two of them stepped into the shifting river of students headed towards the school's front doors. The late winter air was crisp and cold. Puffs of breath hung visibly , and a chilled breeze swept across the schoolyard. It was around eleven thirty, lunch time. A favorite privilege of the students was being allowed to eat their lunch outside. This was a privellege everyone took advantage of, even in the colder months when snow was usually piled high. Anything was better than sitting in the humid basement cafeteria where the ceiling sloped and dripped.

As was usual for the lunch hour, most of the picnic tables that littered the courtyard were full up by the time a quarter of the students arrived outside. With the tables taken kids sat in circles beneath the tall trees on the western side of the building, or against the concrete wall formed by the handicap ramp at the front.

Nick tightened the collar of his coat and pulled the brim of his hat down. It really was cold. Back before she'd died his mother wouldn't have let him leave the house without a scarf triple wrapped around his face, which became pink as could be in cold temperatures. These thoughts made him smile. He missed his mother. They'd never had much, but she'd been a loving parent, and that was all any kid ever really needed.

Finding Henry Mills wasn't hard. He could always be found sitting somewhere off by himself, his nose lodged in a heavy leather bound book twice the size of his head. The kid was a notorious loner. That was common knowledge.

That was probably why it was surprising to find him sitting against the trunk of an ancient oak in the company of Rob, a tall boy in the eighth grade. Rosalinda, their neighbor, and the scruffy looking motorcycle rider who'd rolled into town a few weeks ago. He and Henry were deep in conversation, the latter's iconic boom open on the ground between them.

"What's Rosa doing here?" Nick whispered to his sister.

"I don't know" Ava whispered back. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why was Rosa here? She didn't go to school, and even if she did, she was old enough to be a senior in high school. She had no place at the elementary school.

Rosalinda looked much the same as she had earlier that morning at the window. Her clothes were wrinkled and unkempt, her hair was a frizzy mess, and dark bags hung beneath her bloodshot eyes. Between trembling fingers she held a crumpled piece of paper. Every few moments she'd glance down at it, eyes dancing across its surface, as if trying to find deeper meaning in it than she'd already discovered. Rob on the other hand was staring off into the distance. His knees were hugged to his chest, and his entire body was shaking as though he were shivering.

And apart from Rosa, what was the motorcycle guy doing there? He was a visitor in town, so he couldn't have any kids here. Curiosity taking hold of her, Ava used a finger to plug one of her ears, sharpening the hearing in the other. This was a trick she'd picked up from their nights in the alleyways, when they'd slept in shifts while the other stood watch. They'd never been ambushed in the dark, but they had picked up great listening skills.

With her hearing sharpened, an approaching Ava could hear the conversation a full twenty yards away.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Henry was saying. His face was one of incredulous disbelief, a rare expression for him. "_That's _gonna cause a time paradox? Caleb spent last night showing us a three siege army, a fountain of fairies, and twelve your old me getting mauled by a dragon witch! I think the universe'll survive you telling me how all this ends."

The motorcycle man chuckled, the ornaments around his neck jingling.

"Sorry kid, it doesn't work that way. What Caleb showed you in his memories was from a defunct timeline. That future isn't going to happen no matter what we do, it's not set in stone. But the future I just came from is on _this _timeline. At the end of all this Emma sent me back and told me what to do to help you guys, because she remembered what it is I did. I can't tell you, because according to future you, I didn't tell you anything. Don't worry though. You'll find out when it happens." Henry didn't look to happy with this answer. Face scrunching up a little, he tented his fingers critically.

"So" he began again slowly. "If future me told you not to tell me anything, does that mean we win? Emma saves the day?" the motorcycle rider nodded.

"Yep. That I _can _tell you. I just can't tell you how." He turned to face the approaching twins, startling them. "Looks like your friends came to you. That's convenient, saves time."

Henry looked up, his face brightening significantly. '

"Hey guys" he said cheerfully. He ran a hand down the open spine of his book. "How're you doing?"

"We're good" Ava said hesitantly, looking between the ten year old and his leather jacket wearing companion. "Um..who's this?"

"August Booth" the man answered with a smile. He offered her his hand. "A friend of Henry's. Nice to meet you." Timidly, Ava shook his hand. She wasn't scared of him. She didn't scare easily, but he did unnerve her. Something was off about this guy. Not necessarily wrong off, just weird off.

"You too."

"Rosa" Nick said to their neighbor slowly. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at work? Ms. Harver'll be really mad if you miss again."

The maid's fingers jerked on the paper, tearing it slightly. She didn't respond.

"She can't answer you" said Rob. Like with Rosa, tears ran in red lines down his cheeks. His hands were trembling, and he was biting his lip like he was on the verge of tears. "Her past is... her past is coming back. She's in a dream...she's sleeping..." he trailed off, before bursting into tears and burying his face in his hands. August climbed to his feet. He clapped Henry on the shoulder.

"Think you can handle everything here, kid?" Henry nodded.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. I have to get going. I'm meeting the Hatter at his place. We're gonna head back to the homeland, start setting things up there. That, and I have an errand to run." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a curved hunting horn fashioned from a ram's horn. "Their memories should come back once you show them the pages I told you about, and once Arienna shows herself. She's in your pocket right?" Again Henry nodded. "Well, I'll be off then. Good luck Ava, Nicholas." He turned and walked towards where his motorcycle stood parked by the curb. Abruptly he stopped and called over his shoulder. "Oh, and good luck with dinner tonight, Henry. Hopefully Emma and the queen wont eviscerate each other before we're ready for the battle."

With that he swung a leg over his bike, turned on the engine, and sped away with a squeak of tires. A long silence followed. Ava wasn't sure how to react to any of this. For one, what the heck had that guy and Henry been talking about? Why were Rosa and Rob crying? Rosa usually kept her emotions in check, and Rob was well known as the school tough guy.

"Okay" Henry said, breaking the silence. He looked up at them. "Come here guys. I have something to show you." He patted the ground in front of him and turned to the open storybook, flipping through a few pages. The twins exchanged a look. Nick shrugged as if to say 'may as well'. Neither of them knew what was going on, but nevertheless they lowered themselves to the ground and sat cross legged across from the younger boy.

"What is it you want to show us?" Ava asked, glancing at Rosa and Rob nervously.

"This" Henry gave the book another pat.

"A storybook?" Nick asked, eyebrow curving upward.

"A storybook about you guys" Henry said with an enthusiastic grin. The twins shared another look.

"About us?" Ava asked. This was getting stranger and stranger. Then a terrible realization washed over her. She'd heard rumors about this. Not that she listened to rumors of course. But when the other kids talked about Henry Mills, they always talked about his weird obsession with fairytales. That was why he carried the book around. And, according to one of the sixth grade girls who also went to sessions with Dr. Hopper, he was convinced the book was real.

"About everyone in Storybrooke" Henry said. "And who they really are. Not me though. I'm not in it."

"You think we're fairy tale characters," Ava deadpanned. The words came out harsher than she intended. She really didn't want to hurt the kids feelings. She owed him after all. But there were only so many ways one could deal with someone who didn't quite perceive reality the right way.

"You are fairy tale characters" Henry said completely unfazed. "Hansel and Gretel. Here, look." He picked up the book and set it in front of them. On the page was a colorfully drawn picture of two kids wearing the clothing of medieval peasants walking through a dark forest. Ava gave a start. A heavy knot stuck itself in her throat. The kids looked exactly like them. Not just a little like them, exactly like them. right down to the tiny brown freckle on her left earlobe. She looked up at her brother, who could do nothing but blink. Henry's grin grew only larger."Think about it. Siblings alone in the woods looking for their father. It fits. If you don't believe me, just look at Gretel, she's wearing the same compass around her neck."

Ava found herself edging closer to the page. Her eyes widened as they searched the painted girl's neckline. Yes, there it was. Hanging from a bit of chain around her throat was the same compass Ava herself wore, right down to the crack across its face. A jolt of pain shot through Ava's skull, then another. Again and again great stabbing pains pulsed through her brain, like a migraine headache brought about by a jackhammer.

"How's that possible?" she whispered. Her voice caught in her throat, and was barely audible above the pounding of her heartbeat. Something rustled in Henry's front shirt pocket.

"Can I come out now?" a small voice asked.

"Come out, Ari'" said Henry said, grinning like a maniac.

A tiny winged girl fluttered out of his pocket. Shimmering dust hung about her form, which was wrapped in a gold and white superhero costume, and magic seemed to spark and glitter around her silhouette.

Ava fumbled for the compass hanging around her neck. Her fingers closed around it, the glassy surface of it's face cool against her skin. More pains jarred in on her brain. Misted shadows and semisolid shapes shifted across her field of vision. Like a dream. Nick's hand was gripped tightly to her shoulder. His breath was ragged and uneven. He swayed where he stood, pupils dialating.

"Ava..." he choked. "What's...what's happening?" Flashes of fairies and tall trees flickered through their minds.

"You're remembering" Henry told them as he helped the fairy girl back into his pocket. "Just relax. Everything'll be okay. Just let the memories come. I'll explain when you wake up." He smiled. "I hope we can be friends, guys."

The flashing images grew faster and faster until they were a mental blur of information. Then the flashing stopped completely, and the twins collapsed, a dream like memory taking hold of their minds.

* * *

><p><em>Gretel crouched low beneath an oblong blueberry bush. Grass and twigs crackled beneath her tiny feet. Her eyes darted in all directions, searching for any unseen foes waiting in the night. One could never be too careful in the Enchanted Forest. Dangerous things lurked here. Like bears, wolves, and the queen's roaming patrols. One could never be too careful. <em>

_Tentatively Gretel reached into the bush's depths. A grateful sigh escaped her lips as she pulled the last precious berries free of their had been scarce for the past week. Hansel's snares had yielded but a single small grouse, and between the two of them the twins had stopped most of the berry bushes clean. Now they had to scrounge for meals, eating anything edible they could find. _

_Depositing the juice filled berries in her skirt pocket, Gretel stood up and pushed a dirty blonde lock out of her face. Turning she took three steps between the bush and a stand of overgrown pine trees. A lump stirred beneath the pine's boughs. _

_"Did you find anything?" Hansel asked in a hushed tone. _

_"Yes" she crawled beneath the branches and went to join him against the trunk. "Only a little. Why are you up? You should be asleep." Hansel shook his head. _

_"Can't" his eyes were shining disks in the pale moonlight. He turned to face his sister. "Do you think she's looking for us? I keep hearing noises."_

_"I don't know" Gretel muttered, tugging at the hem of her dress. They'd been asking each other that same question for days, and no matter how they trued the thought wouldn't go away. Was the queen watching them? She was known for her ruthlessness, and they had directly defied her wishes. The forest could be filled with any number of spies. A shadowy hoodlum lurking just out of sight. A tawny owl watching from the canopy. They could be anywhere, or anything. "What kind of noises?" She hadn't heard much of anything on her food run. Then again, she'd been focused on food, not seeing if she was being watched. _

_"Voices" Hansel answered. "Little voices in the trees. Sounds like singing." _

_"Maybe it's fairies" Gretel suggested. "They're supposed to live in the woods. It's summer, so they may be out and about, singing to their goddess. Do you want to go and look? May as well if you can't sleep, and maybe the fairies can help us." Without a moment's hesitation reached over and grabbed the stick he'd sharpened that afternoon. He slipped it into his belt and passed Gretel their single hunting knife. These were the closest things to weapons they had._

_"Yeah, let's go." _

_Lighting one of the two torches they'd fashioned from sticks and bits of cloth, Gretel lead the way out of the trees and onto the thin dirt path that wound through the forest like a river. Hooting owls called to one another in the night. Fireflies glistened in patches of grass that dotted the path, and Hansel closed his eyes as he walked, listening. He could still hear the voices echoing in the distance. Minuscule song notes echoing off the trunks. Looking for fairies in the dark could be considered very foolish, risking being caught unaware by predators. But it was also perhaps her best chance. Fairies had powerful magic, drawn from the earth itself. Maybe if they found them, they could protect them from the queen's wrath until they found their father. _

_"Do you still hear it?" Gretel asked. Hansel nodded. _

_"Barely. Can you see anything?"_

_The torchlight drowned out the light of the fireflies, but she could still see sparkling swaying through the upper branches in the distance. _

_"I think so...wait" she spun to the left as a harsh scent his her nostrils. Smoke. There, billowing upward in a gray-black column, smoke rose in the forest. She grabbed her brother by the wrist, knuckles going white. "Someone's here." On instinct she dropped the torch and stomped into out with her boot. Below the smoky column could be seen an orange glow shining like a lighthouse in a foggy harbor._

_"Probably hunters" said Hansel. Together the twins lowered themselves to the ground, peeking at the fire from between the underbrush. _

_"Probably" Gretel agreed. Her voice was laced with fear. This was exactly what she'd wanted to avoid. Wanderers in the Enchanted Forest could hardly be called friendly folks. Most of them were street toughs or pickpockets hoping to prey on innocent travelers. Just as her fears reached the boiling point, a rough hand grabbed her by the collar and heaved her into the air. _

_"Why hello there, pretty" a poisonously silky voice drawled. A skeleton of a man, with sunken in eyes and gaunt skin pulled taught over his cheekbones. Yellow teeth lined his jaws, and a curbed knife was twirling in his fingers. _

_With a roar Hansel threw himself at the man's legs, but his charge was knocked aside with a quick kick of the shins. The boy tumbled to the ground clutching his stomach. The man laughed a cold, raspy laugh. _

_"Good effort boy but I'm afraid it's just not enough. Stay calm and I'll gut ya nice and easy like, then me and me mates I can have some fun with your little friend here, eh?" his tone was mocking and cruel. Then, just as Ava's fear was bubbling to the surface, a great many things happened at exactly the same time. _

_The sparkling high in the trees had moved from their spot high above the ground, and had flown down to ground level, revealing themselves to be a pair of whizzing fairies with gold and silver dust trails that could spell out words in the air. They were giggling like schoolgirls as they wound circles around Gretel's attacker's head, throwing up sparks behind them and making a series of banging noises with a few well placed shots of magic. _

_The man's grip on her collar loosened and she kicked herself free. She fell to the ground in a heap, and could only watch as the sparking fairies continued to whiz around his head. He cursed and writhed on the spot, slashing wildly with his knife. But to no avail. The fairies were far too fast for him._

_"NOW!" a voice thundered from the trees. _

_At that command the fairies broke away from the mans face and whizzed over to the twins, over whom they conjured a bubble shaped sphere of magic around them. A protective barrier. _

_An enormous shadow launched out of the shadows, swinging an ax high above its head, and with a sickening THWACK it brought the axe down on the highwayman's neck. He collapsed in a bloody pile, spasms of movement twitching his limbs. The shadow freed his ax of the man's neck, and spoke in a familiar voice._

_"Thank you for the distraction, ladies" he called to the fairies. "I've been looking for these two for quite a while. Again, thank you." _

_The twins edged backward as the man stepped towards them, into the light of the fairies' auras, revealing a kind, warm face Hansel and Gretel knew all too well. _

_The woodsman. Their father._

_They jumped to their feet and ran into his arms without a ward. Wrapping his arms around them, the woodsman let out a joyous sob. Their family had found each other again. As they always would._

* * *

><p>As their eyes opened, the twins let out a gasp.<p>

Henry sat a few paces away, thumbing through his book.

"Oh good, you're up" he said. His face was as bright and sunny as usual. "Be careful about the pentacles I've put on your necks. You'll need those tonight, Hansel, Gretel." He laughed as he said each name. It was a laugh of glee. The twins, eyes still bleary from unconsciousness, look at each other.

"What's going on?" Gretel demanded. Her voice was sharp and decisive.

"Everyone's been cursed" Henry explained. "The queen made everyone forget who they really are. Just wait until tonight, and Emma and me will explain everything. We're gonna break the curse, and we got a time traveler helping us do it. Cool, right?"

**I know I say this often, but this was about half as long as I originally intended. There were two scenes I wanted to pack into this one, but they really go better together than they do with this one. Next one's gonna be a ton longer, and the plot'll finally start going somewhere. Sorry if it's been kind of slow the last couple of chapters, and that it's taken so long to get this one up. I've had school stuff, that and I've been writing a Hunger Games Percy Jackson crossover. Go check it out. Happy reading!**


End file.
